Metaphorical

Manic Depressa 
That is me, 
Growing up inside. 
My temple has succumb, 
To my own monstrosity. 
Burning up my body, 
To a creature new. 
Drag your nails across my skin, 
A numb and utter action. 
I can play a role, 
And act out like a drone. 
But it's only me that knows, 
I am all a mask. 
A monster I did make, 
I let take over me. 
I am nothing, 
A silly little girl. 
Who needs to get a hold, 
Of the sickness in my head. 
And forgive and forget and understand, 
The evil of this place. 
But boiling in my skin, 
Is the darkness of the mind. 
And seeing myself in pain, 
Makes me feel I'm alive. 
I'm a sad little puppet, 
With no master hands. 
And when one has no control, 
They go a little mad. 
 
 Sheena Allen Feb 2007