The Worst Monsters of Them All

She begged of them to let her go, 
But she knew it was too late, 
She'd fallen into their abyss, 
It was too late to change her fate. 

"You should do it", they cried.
"Nobody cares about you anyway". 
Why couldn't they leave her alone?
Why couldn't she ever feel safe?

She had tried running before, 
But she knew she could never get far,
They knew that she was dependent on the pain, 
And they mocked when the pain left scars. 

I am stronger that this, she told herself, 
With a quiver of reluctance, 
But you see, they feed on that;
That split second when you let down the resistance. 

She has dotted lines scattered on her wrists, 
And they are all freshly painted red,
The lines are the product of their influence, 
And they won't stop until she is dead. 

They are parasites,
They manifest only in negativity, 
Their power is often undermined, 
She calls them...
the voices of anxiety.