Dear Victim...

[my little old man]

I am observing much weakness in your appearance.

It took no time for him to get inside of you;

Inside of your head,

Inside of your being.

You don’t even know him.

Two years and I don’t even know him,

Until now.

Knowing this,

he will take immense advantage

of every ounce of your being.

Charm you with his deceptive, panegyric utterances.

and hold you accustom to the distorted ideas he leads you to believe.

I mustn’t give in.

I mustn’t throw myself into this turmoil again;

at the expense of your ignorant bliss.

Day by day, night after night.,

My progress builds.

As I adjust to my life without him causing me to destroy myself.

Becoming involved will only take me back

at the feet of Anxiety,

The strain of Hysteria,

and the brink of Insanity.

If this is that of love,

I die in sight of pain,

In sight of suffrage.

How can such emotion be expressed?

If not by the shrills of your deepest roots.

Brutally severed from your soul;

Disconnecting you from what had been content,

and is now nothing more than a melancholy basket case.

In fear there is hope,

In hope there is life,

In life there is death,

In death there is peace.