Progression

A brain twisted,

Not demented.

With a mission,

To Program me to see,

The worst of all things.



Good is a mirage,

Like a cardiac massage.

Toying with my heart.

Leading me to believe,

There is love within the stars.

The trauma received leaves a scar,

Embedded in my head.

Taught to trust, when crushed,

deceived in every way.

Preceded by spite, venom, and rage,

Blaming my broken mentality

~And~

The way I'm trained/forced to overthink,

About everything, it degrades my heart,

Adding shame and self blame.



My insecurities, relentless,

Overclocking emotional sickness.

To the thoughts conceived,

In my mental routines.

That defeats the spirit within me.



~But~

Now I tear and destroy,

To rebuild a healthier choice.

Trying to learn from the way I've been torn.



Unable to make progress,

I stumble to the floor.

Embarrassing to hear,

You don't see no change in me.



Causing a buckle with a bend,

From the mental torment within .

I begin to peel and pry

Upon my spiritual eyes.

Reaching for your hand,

In hopes that one day you can,

Show me the way the mind is supposed to be.

Instead of overthinking the worst possibilities