Killer in Me
I have long wished to kill a version of me,
that haas long been seen as evil, and warped myself to see my reflection as such, too.
Having that labeled pierced into my flesh for the effects of a personality disorder,
understudied and unmedicated when I was only fifteen,
and then forcing myself to wage war on something I cannot control is evil.
But, I am not evil. Evil exists in those that forced my mind to split-
from a sweet and innocent child into something of a war solider,
sent out in times of stress and who reacted like a beaten, angry animal.
Everything became a threat. A book thrown too close in my direction,
or dark promises that realistically held no weight.
What is a caged animal to do, when you fill its home with predators and try to burn its house down from the inside?
I am not evil.
I do not deserve to be euthanized, or ostrichized.
For that, I will kill every person that lives in my mind.
That spits anger, and spins fables where I am a villain.
I will kill everyone I have known, that thought trying to control a teenage girl who just needed to be protected, was okay to do.