Paper-cuts

I double over in pain;
Curled up
In the fetal position
To protect myself
And yet
They keep coming...
Every word
Every syllable
Every letter
A painful cut
As my own brain
Works against me
And conjures up
Infinite memories
Of us together;
Of giddy happiness,
Of love and laughter.
I slide into a state
Of acute delirium
I question myself
I question life
I question
My very existence
But still
The words
They are relentless
And they keep coming...
And while it may seem
That every word alone
Is harmless,
They have found
Strength in numbers;
For a thousand paper-cuts
Can still kill
And they crowd me
In their hundreds
Overwhelming me
Stabbing
Cutting
Disfiguring
Maiming
I have nowhere to go
No one to run to
Nowhere to hide
All I can do
Is take their punishment
And try not to wonder
What I've done
To deserve this.
I put on a brave face
I smile and nod
And drive away
But when I feel
The burning tears
Soaking my beard;
Stinging my eyes;
Blinding me;
Blocking my view
Of the road;
As I swerve
Hither and thither
Trying to avoid
Incoming traffic,
I look away
So no one can see
What a mess I am
And maybe
Just maybe
If I'm lucky
Someone will
Crash into me
While I'm not looking,
And make it all go away
But that's okay
It won't hurt
For I am already
Numb to pain;
You see, the thing
About being dead
On the inside
Is that dying
On the outside
Becomes a mere
Formality...
You can neither
Save nor hurt
A soulless husk;
You can just
Finally end
Its torment
And put it out
Of its misery.