Tyra

I need something...

Anything...

I just want her to shut up for chrissake,

This vile, horrid tyrant stuck in my head.

This agonizing bully I wish was long dead.

The one who's under the impression that she owns me.

The terrorizing pussy who's great profession is to choke me.

Tyra... that's what we'll call her.

Tyra, the Tyrant.

A special one, I tell you.

// // //

She lives hidden somewhere in the coily maze of my galactic crown,

moving through each neuron like some vicious dream slayer.

She loathes positivity, and slices through it with tenacity.

Her words...

goodness, her words...

They ravage through my soul,

breaking every ounce of it,

and leaving me in a hole.

// // //

"Look at you and look at her"

"She's miles ahead."

"If you knew and if you cared"

"You'd be far less bled."

She said.

"Do you even try to get up?"

"Or have you fallen in love with the rut?"

"Pathetic much?"

"I knew you'd never make the cut."

She shunned.

// // //

"I. SAID. SHUT. UP."

"Shut up, Tyra!"

"Can't you just leave me alone!?"

"Whether it's the crack of dawn,"

"or far into the wee hours,"

"you still come crawling,"

"with your sea of bloodflowers!"

"Just give me a break already,"

"Please."

// // //

"No."

// // //

"You savage."

// // //

I think Tyra believes she's a god.

Possessive. Territorial. Greedy.

Well, a morally corrupt kind of god.

If I were to describe her in much simpler terms,

I'd call her a conceited arrogant narcissist,

who monopolizes conversations,

shatters foundations,

and chasitises motivations,

scraping every crumb of hope and dreams,

leaving me with nothing more, but a rope and tears.

// // //

One thing that get's on her last nerves though is; "the Happy Hormones."

She despises them like her life depends on it.

They completely throw her off her groove,

so she hates it.

Remember, she's got a god complex.

Oh, and the poor victims;

Dopey, Sery, Oxy and Endy, they're always getting the short end of the stick.

Especially Dopey!

// // //

Dopey is my absolute favourite though, and I know Tyra's jealous of that!

He kicks in after the most gratifying moments ever...

A good creative session,

A fantastic workout,

Or an electric solitary intimate escape!

You name it!

// // //

However, pitiful little Tyra,

wrapped up in all her insecurity, fear, shame, guilt, comparison, anxiety...

she just can't stand to see me untroubled.

She loves making my life unbearable, especially with her endless racing... oh my goodness!

Rumination is what she calls it.

86 billion neurons, but somehow this worthless piece of crap, manages to infiltrate each one of them in the speed of light.

Insane.

// // //

// // //

Okay but wait...

Who is?

Who's insane?

Her? Me?

Us?

// // //

Who is she? And who am I?

Really.

Am I her opposite? The good one?

Didn't they say "good always wins"?

Why is she the victorious one then?

// // //

And am I any better?

Aren't I just as bad as she is too?

I loath her...

I despise her...

I reject her...

Those aren't actions of the good.

The good love, care and accept.

But I think...

I think I'm lying to myself.

// // //

I try to seperate me from her,

try to supress her existence,

try to silence her voice,

but I fail.

Miserably.

Sometimes I kind of don't want to, actually.

I don't want to lose her.

Because...

she's my only true friend.

I know,

very rich coming from someone who just called this so called "true friend" a worthless piece of crap.

I know.

// // //

But the truth?

She's MY worthless piece of crap.

MY Tyra.

MY pretty little fiend.

And if she's stuck with me forever?

Then I guess, it's whatever.

------

Oops.