Broken record

My mind is but a broken record. Yelling at me from the past. 

I have stopped taken part of this life. My own life is only a mirrored reflection of what's been and what might be. 

My gut makes me sick, my body is making revolt. 

Oh I'm so sick and tired of this lie that never ends. This song that plays over and over until I know all the lyrics backwards. 

This is not life. This is not reality. This is all lies. Lies from deep within. A truth that was never mine. 

I don't want you to be here. Go away! I'm screaming at the demons. Please leave me alone! 

I'm missing out! Don't you get it? My LIFE is out there. Not in here. Not in this broken record. Who started it anyway? I don't like it. It's not my kind of music. It is way to dark. To heavy. I don't like it. It's not pink. 

They are turning up the sound. The same song that's been playing for months. Oh so sad. I just can't take it. I hate it. I hate this song. It's so not me. It's not my kind of music. 

I try to sing my own song. I make up the lyrics as I go. Tra la la la la! I try to sing harder than the broken record playing. But it never stops. My voice fails me and I get tired. Exhausted. Screaming of the top of my lungs. My voice goes quiet but still on the inside I scream. I scream without a sound. The record is still playing. Broken record on repeat. 

It's all a blur sometimes. The lyrics of the broken record penetrates my sleep. Sometimes the words go so deep I can't make a difference of them and my own. 

I start screaming again. Singing of the top of my lungs. Creating my own lyrics as I go. Tra la la la la.. 

Demons I beg you. Please you away. I know you all to well by now and I can cite the words of the broken record by heart.

Please let me go. I'm missing out. My LIFE is out there. NOT in here. 

I'm trapped in this cage. With all the demons all around. They guard me like dogs. Never letting me out of sight. 

My mind is my prison, still my greatest gift. If only the broken record could stop playing. So that I could hear my own voice again. Singing tra la la la la. A song of hope and love. Not this broken tune, talking about despair. 

I'm not listening no more. The broken record can keep playing. I'm not even paying attention. I'm right here. In my coffin of glass. Just like Snow White. With all the people I love surrounding me. Waiting for me to wake up.

I'm not dead. I'm only sleeping. The broken record is still playing, but it doesn't matter. I sing as I sit here. With my own voice. 
Tra la la la la..  And my world is at once pink again.