Your Own Battle

Lay that phone down,
Cut through the irksome illusion of your mind.
It's all in your hovering head,
This reflection of a rag,
it's all in your head.

"Do not touch my heart,
like a finger on a switch,
I might just cringe away.
Do not walk away,
knowing that I'll always be the shadow left at bay.
I might just vanish off this stage.
Do not let me go,
shaking my stability with an indifferent wave.
I might just need you as my only trace."

Hit the mind mute button,
hit it fast.
Cease the pathetic ploy
or else it will trample over like moss.
Cut through the tape recorder,
buy a new one.
Bury the former in a bin,
so it will just sink soulfully.

"Why don't you just walk away?
Then, I might never feel again."

It's what you want.
This battle, it's all yours.