What am I but a broken tree
Bending to your wild winds of indecision?
I want to sway left, yet you pull me right.
I’m uprooted with every blow as insecurity fills my mind.
I need peace, compassion, and open arms,
Not judgemental stares and condesending charm
Lullying me into false sense of security before your deceptive words slash right through me.
You’re giving me whiplash, and I want to flee,
But then those dark empty eyes land on me.
I come undone, and just like a bad vice,
I come back time and time again– maybe you’re my demise.
Ded. My vice
