My "It" of Patron

It's a painless stab that seduces my heart
It's a tool that pulls my healing wound apart
It's the secret place I want to be
Even when I think of what it's done to me
It's a hollow feeling late at night
Throwing anxiety to my mind and sight
It's a trick that towers over my mind
It's a scam to suck my love and time
It's a demon that whispers in my ear
Telling me to open and let it near
It's the reason I went out late last night
Though I returned with my heart still heavy, not light
It's a continuous knock on my bedroom door
While I tremble beneathe the covers knowing it wants more-
of me and all I have to give
So I move towards it across the room
Wishing I could tell it what I long to
While tightening the locks and guarding the alarm
I go to my knees and grab my right arm
But I see the shadow on the otherside
Knowing the product of my "it" has arrived..
As minimal time has passed me by
I realise I'm left alone so I
Make my way to my heart-bedroom door
Disguarding my chamber I venture out toward
Where the object of my passion and fear earlier stood
I study the perimeter to make sure it's secured
And I find myself alone with little out of place
I gaze in the mirror to find not relief on my face
But the all too familiar expression of dispair
With that feeling of wanting to take my it there
But I sit alone confused and...what else?
I find my words few and my descriptions are scarce.
It woke me this morning around 10 AM
I tried to fall back, but my heart's stricken
I don't know how to feel, what to do, or what to say
So I ask the Lord to take my it away
But I don't think He will and I'm not sure why
Now all that's left is to live the same life
It seems I must be lacking in my jar
I feel I should keep running, but will I get far?
It's one thing to feel it late at night in my bed
But now it's returned to loom over my head.

- Desiree' Magee