Breaking, shrinking, shriveled mess

picking up the remnants of the ‘truly blessed’

Thinking one day I’ll get through it

if I’m open and endure it

But then it just kept feeding

ravishing my nutrients, ripping at my core

suckling from my clitoris and feeding me with lore

Those thoughts making me feel like I could do this

I can toughen up and move right through this

Just had to ignore mirrors


loved ones

and then I was alone

everyday alone with my thoughts living in my own squander

wishing that I could just get away and wander

Into the killing field of the past

where hindsight makes me free at last

starving myself to feed my future

dying under bourbon-fueled nights without food

but I wandered

into those vacant spots in my mind where hope used to be

when all it took was my bootstraps and the drive to succeed

Now sitting at my desk I’m starting to see

the me that I want to be

Though I’m constantly terrified that the me that I see

is not.

-Written by me on 11.2.18

Until next time,


About thepsych1

I am a natural progression. As I learn and grow, so does this blog as a reflection of myself. Poetry Art Videos Critique Let's collaborate. Bring your friends.
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