Grip

Grip

Rip me, bleed me, tear me whole,

Rip me, bleed me, take my soul.

Running, hiding, can’t be free,

It’s way too hard to hide from me.

My body is a prison, my hands are my tools,

Eating, indulging- the games of fools.

One day soon you’ll make me strong,

Become so perfect that I belong.

Don’t let go of me please

You’re my hope and my disease.

One day I’ll fight you to shake you off,

But you’ll grip tighter before you scoff,

That I dare face you, my only lord

And give me guilt as my reward.

I close my eyes from the terrors I see,

And finally know that the terror is me.

Your grip is tight, the night is long,

I’ll become so perfect that I belong.

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