The Game

April 14, 2011
The hunters--
they prey on every insecurity,
establishing that
you’re not worth anything
to reassure themselves
that they still dominate the food chain.

Their blind eyes scan over every inch of you
mocking,
anticipating,
feasting,
on your rippling, impulsive mistakes.
Your misery captivates them;
there is nothing like suffering to satisfy their hunger.

They’ll tame the revolution sprouting from inside of you
grasping at your diminishing confidence.

Becoming the main attraction
A mere distraction from the pathetic, empty lives they live.

Shaky hands and swollen words consume you
chills causing the soul to shiver.
Your courage
is just small enough
to slip through the bars
and make a break for it.
And the last string of hope unravels,
As you reach out for all that is left to hold on to.

They suggest that
it’d be easier if you ended your life
but is it worth it
to see that gleam in their eyes?

They try to alter the perception of perfection
and create clones
of their atrocious selection.

Forcing you, fighting you,
they clutch on to what’s left of you.

Suddenly, the sunshine reaches your eyes
as you seek out your escape.
With the tiniest smirk,
you break through the chain of their arms
and their growls turn silent.
You survived.





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