antagonistic

I'm your mind keeping you company, talking to you in your solitude. Hello there, how you doin'? No... this isn't merely a soliloquy. Don't worry: you're not lonely. You're not alone. How could you possibly be? When you have something, I mean, someone to talk to. After all, you have me. So, talk to me. Don't shut me out. No, you're not going insane. This is your mind talking, no one knows more, no one can understand more, your torment and unending pain. I know what you're going through. Literally. So, I decided to come out and be with you. You can stop pretending now, don't say you don't need comfort. You can't lie t

No, it's alright, but thank you. I really don't want to play today. I don't feel like joining you to play that game you play. I'd rather stay here, if you please, in this dark and lonely corner. I've already promised myself that I wouldn't, that I mustn't let you play with me any longer. Please This repetitive game is beginning to hurt, this perpetual, unending game of deceit. When are you going to stop? I wonder, as I stare down at my feet. I'm really getting sick of playing this, will you please just let me be? No, I do not think this is fun. I hate this, why can't you see? leave me I look up and meet your grinning eyes,

Even my deepest secrets cannot be hidden, from you, my thoughts have no shield, to you, all my desires are to be spoken— my wants, my needs... to you I have to yield. Nothing can be kept secret, and there's nothing I can do. Even behind my defensive wall, I can never hide anything from you. I seek to escape from this painful captivity. I seek to gain a little freedom: some peace, some privacy. And though you're aware of this— after all, there are no secrets with you— you still refuse to let me go. Why? Know this: I hate you, too.

A swirling mist before me, a gentle sighing. I watch. I listen. The world asleep around her... so quiet. Silently falling, carefully, almost purposely (though with no real reason) the gentle breeze moves her, controls her. But she doesn't cry out— no protest and no complaint. An interesting occurrence it is, so swift, and so fast... yet simultaneously calming. From behind this glass window I watch the world go by, yearning to be out there, to taste the cold, iciness. To feel it upon my tongue, to sense it upon my skin. I yearn to break free of this god forsaken captivity. I want to feel that purity, awaiting me.