Pits Of Mental Illness Poem by Tess Connor

My death will take me to heaven
Even though it’s the devil that I follow
The fiery pits of hell to me
Seems my destiny, my life is shallow
Most people who have a lord
Want to please and guarantee
A comfy cloud bed where they lay
But satin is the only boss to me
I’m forced to work, to perfect his temple
Just like an Egyptian slave
Forced to starve my starving body
As I’m dodging my own grave
I’ve searched high and low for a way out
A way for this to end
The only end I see heading my way
Is a devilish trend
I tease him lots, feeding myself
When that day I may have eaten
Giving me strength to fight back
But at the end I’m still beaten
Every now and then I sneak forbidden food
My heart pounds through the skin
One day I will break free
Then maybe my life can begin...