Disposable

It's a tug of war I play,

Internally.

You judge, tear it apart, but it'seems like I can't control my demons.

I wish you could,

For the smallest moment realize how I feel.

Acknowledge that my feelings are valid,

Real.

But instead you, the jester of mind games begins a match.

Instead of listening to truly understand.

You make me Dance to the beat of your drum,

I trip,

You laugh.

I hurt,

You lash

Out like I'm disposable, 

Trash.

But still I'm here,

Clinging onto past years,

The ego much smaller then than now.

Hours ahead are countless. 

Distressed,

I self medicate.

Because that's all I've ever known.