Mires and Bogs


Photo Credit: ShyCrow at deviantart.com

I’m angry
and scared
and stressed,
and these feelings
keep bogging me down.

I need happy
and fun
and free,
but the chains
are so heavy,
the weight
too cumbersome
for levity.

You keep your claws
dug in
and so many others
have joined you
in their hanging-on
that I am nothing
but shredded skin
and exposed bone,
my flesh dangling
in crimson tendrils.

I am spent in ways
I never knew about.

I miss normal
but I’m not sure
I’ve ever had it.
One trauma
after another,
my endurance
with every fleeting step
down lanes
filled with moments
I forgot
and new memories
that seep into my skin,
sending their poison
swimming through my veins.

And I am theirs,
all these clawed fingers,
these hooks in my back.
I’m trying to escape
but I keep sinking
into the mire
of my own making.




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