Just a thought

I hate descriptions

I’m compliant to the tyrant,
that is my psycho violence.
It’s often silent.

I am as I am.
Molded by the ignorance of my parents.
It’s apparent I’m apprehended,
by demons that took residence
in my head.

Cold words led to my death.
Nothing was said as I bled,
the Darkest tints of red.
Drops of myself bred with pure hatred.
So I hide, life makes me feel unrelated
suicide is commonly debated
my body and feelings are segregated
Those Thoughts invade my head
So it’s premeditated

Mental health, mines quite devastated
I drink vials of the Devils medication
Hoping to hasten my shelf life
or lessen the pain I’m in.

My minds soul stained with
The promise of an ends emptiness