Sword and Dagger

The beast fights silently within.
There’s no answer, there’s no sin.
It’s a hollow echo in the mind,
Sometimes so quiet it’s kind.

Pushed down and forgotten,
The reminder is like cotton.
Pricked and bleeding and it’s a storm –
The victim crawls away, forlorn.

She screams and cries as she bleeds
But the beast is beating,
Pounding, smashing, thrashing,
Through the wall it is crashing.

It floods through her mind,
All the pain she’s suffered through time.
The beast a heavy reminder,
Her life is a ticking timer.

Its anger and sadness and fear
And nothing at all is clear.
Its lost and broken and nothing,
But its heavy and it’s something.

It’s outward, inward, everywhere
It’s a zoned out, empty stare.
It’s tears streaming down her cheeks,
And it’s been waiting three long weeks.

It claws it’s way through the trudges,
Cackling through blood smudges.
It’s rips and seam-tears through skin,
But it’s as small as the prick of a pin.

It’s a trigger, like a gun.
It’s a monster weighing the ton.
It’s the nightmare she denies,
And the reason she cries.

It’s an attack on the soul,
An attack of which there is no control.
It’s an intruder from within,
A beast made of sickly sin.

It comes and then it goes,
Fast like a bullet until time slows.
And then it’s gone and all that’s left
Beneath the tears and shaking chest

Is a vast abyss of emptiness.