Every night it hits me like a flood,
a turning of my stomach,
the boiling of my blood,
i look in the mirror and scowl at what i see.
it is indeed, me.
when darkness closes and no one is around,
i feel a hatred so deep and profound,
my skin crawls and my eyes blurr,
what triggers this godawful stirr?
this pain conquers any physical hurt I've ever felt,
bodily pains are more easily dealt.
i cower and think of better things
what if i could fly, what if i grew wings?
I cry, in cased in sorrow.
It shall be no different this morrow,
there's no escape from this misery
its pooled and settled too deep in side of me.