How it started
The loneliness started with a slit to the wrist,
Later on he said “again I insist”
There was nothing happening so I punched the brick wall with my fist.
All of a sudden I felt some pain,
He clapped his hands “again, again!”,
He drove me over and over till I was insane,
He forced me to push all my friends away and stick in my own lane.
He was there for me when I needed him the most,Â
It was like my own reality show with him as the host.
I tried to get him out of my head,
But he began to sleep next to me in my own bed.
I thought to myself what if I got the rope?
I mean no one likes me and I have no hope,
And no matter what I did there was no way to cope.
But I never knew hope standard for Hold.On.Pain.Ends,
And I told myself whatever’s bad I can make amends,
So I put myself out there and found the right friends,
I managed to get him out of my mind,
Put him a blender and “GRrrrind”
I felt better until my mind played back on rewind,
He was back but this time kind,
I didn’t trust him and wondered what he was trying to find,
He stuck by me like glue,
He was not very smart and gave out too many clues,
I tried so hard not to feel blue.
I knew not to give up because it would have mean he’d have won,
And to me that meant a ton,
If I got him out of my head: mission complete and done.
I told him this is not a game and it isn’t fun.
He said okay it’s time to say bye,
I’m finally able to spread my wings and fly,
Let’s just end it on a tie.
I said to him back you’ve got a deal,
If you’ve ever got a flat tire I’ll give you a wheel,
I can’t thank you enough for giving my the emotions that I feel,
I was as weak as a feather but now I’m steel.
Â
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Comments
Hell-low, Hollie.
I'm not sure if the ambiguous "Him" you're referring to in this raw, expressive piece of poetic pandering is an old boyfriend or Satan himself.
In reality, I guess it doesn't matter.
The fact remains that whatever was dragging you down you got shed of it and allowed yourself to be lifted up.
Nicely penned.
~Dean Kuch â™ ?†?â™
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Thankyou for your feedback, my poem is referring to the person in my head telling me what to do. Most of my life he has put me through a living hell but I put his opinion to rest.