Inside my twisted mind. Are fears I tend to hide behind. Beaten and bruised from self abuse. At war with myself begging for a truce. Each day the same battle. I’m no wolf just part of the cattle. Constant mood swings like the big hand every hour. I’m tired of fighting I don’t have the power. It is so easy to pretend and fake. A novel full of sorrow another new ache. I’m just trying to find out where I fit in this puzzle. Never been one to see the positive side of thing as I constantly wear a muzzle.