Weak Poem by Elizabeth Tyease Collins

Control my mind with your thoughts of suicide,
left to die without self control
sheltered beings and bloody kisses fill in the walls
of my self image.
My disgusting, my well-being, and you live to let go.

You set me afoot on the pedistal of perfection,
as if you know me better with every eye judging me
having me trapped within the misery flooding my
mind.

You kept me speechless with my secrets wrapped
and taped,
raptured a heart so broken, but he was
never to blame.

So anxious to get away from the voices that
whisper,
the eyes that watch my every move,
the faith and denial that wrings my heart
stays.

You had me positioned to play anyone that I
surely wasn't going to win,
waiting for me to strike,
or go completely insane.

Now you tell me what I should do,
should I kill the noise and kill others that protest?
Or should I be the crying shoulder for everyone
around,
and hope not to be so high that I touch the ground.