The Art of Misery

The art of misery, sometimes, is unavoidable company.

Her spirit is broken.

Her heart is only beginning to mend.

She’s been trampled on by the dogs

In search of their broken bones.

She’s been hurt so much,

Physically and emotionally,

That she’s always waiting for it to happen again.

She expects the worst

Because she’s always gotten the worst.

She’s lost inside a world of doubt,

Trying to escape,

But the monsters are everywhere,

Lurking in the shadows,

Waiting to prey on her fears,

Eating up the goodness in her heart,

And spewing into its void

A blackness and negativity

That eats her from the inside out.

It turns her into something dark and damning.

It transforms her into all that she hates.

She’s suspicious and untrusting.

She’s always hating herself

Because she’s been trained to do so.

Trained by the world.

Trained by those who have hurt her.

Trained by her past.

She’s perfected the art of misery.

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy it.