Growing Sick.

Perhaps one day I will grow sick of this pain
but for now I bath in its fire
I drench myself in its blood
I sacrifice my body to the ideas it puts in my head.

Perhaps one day I'll look at my scars
and realize what a foolish girl I must have been
to fall for its deceitful ways
to listen to such lies and want to believe them.

Perhaps one day I will try to fight it
knowing it will be a losing battle
and I will end up deeper down
in a well of sorrow.