I’ve spent so long
running
from demons.
so long trying to escape
curled, thin claws
scraping away at my scalp.
so long breathing
through fog banks and
cloaks and freedom I’ve never tasted.
so long pick, pick, picking
away at layers of skin
to see if my heart’s still beating.
so long pretending
to be somebody they wanted
me to be, to be somebody
I knew I wasn’t.
so long ignoring voices
ignoring their words, ignoring
their space in my head.
so long trying to focus
trying to be perfect, trying
to get it all done, to do
a good job.
so long hoping
that someday I could be
like them.
I’m not.
some days, that’s okay.
but today, all I can see
is numb and flawed,
and I would rather
not
be
here.
This poem flows nicely and great use of repetition with “so long”. The ending is very sad.
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