Grip On Reality
written by Missy

Some days I try to
Get a grip on reality.
But always when I do, I find
It has a grip on me.
The grip gets firmer till
It starts to bruise my ribcage
And all I can see
Are Reality's ugly features
And sadistic little smile.
Reality's breath rattles in my ear
Echoing my own in my throat
But Reality's is rank and evil
A thousand reminders of one dark night.
Reality's twisted fingers on my skin,
Using them to guide me around
The dancehall of my psyche
In my virginal white ballgown
With the fetching lace and bloodstains.
Jerked like a puppet to Reality's tunes
Dancing and dancing until my feet bleed.
He's merciless, he doesn't care
About my pain and suffering
He treads on my feet until I give in,
Then whores me off to all his friends.


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