Abhorred

Long festered in my soul are words dark and deep, words that for years now have haunted me in my sleep. Words dark and stark against my heart.
Words I here at last release, words... that echo a time in my life I refuse to repeat.

I am abhorred by my own  existence; where once I found that fight to be something I adored. I now implore death open that gauzy door, if just to hear familiar voices once more.
More abhorred though than me, the sheer inconvenience I would be, to the people I would leave.
I will not force on thee that tragedy, the travesty, the agony of asking oneself "Was it me?"
I refuse to be another young funeral, to waste these precious organs.
Yet for the lingering light, I lost my fight... something insidious sapped my might.
I do not wish to die, but by this life I cannot abide.
I am tired, I've been tried, it feels like everything in my heart has died.
It feels like in my own life I am not the center, but a side. I am not the first choice or second best, no lucky third, just another among the rest.
Yet in the logic of my mind, knowledge does reside. I know that I am a Phoenix, my fire is like the tide, always to recede, but destined to rise.

That does not ease the fight, that does not stifle the pain, because it's hard to burn when again you've been left out in the rain.
Yet burn I must, burn because the carnage lusts for me to be among it and I refuse.
Burn because I will thrive through the abuse, burn because from those who have left me in the rain, the betrayal is old news.
Burn because I am abhorred for the honesty, because I am praised for the lies.

Burn because I feel like I destroy everyone my heart dare touch if they don't destroy me first, and burn because this heart pines with the worst for the best.
I am abhorred; for I am loyal to myself and the true,  a select few.