Crooked Nostalgia

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 Nothing makes sense anymore

However I don’t think it ever really did

Looking back and dragging myself forward

All with the force of my own mind

Numb to the present

Sunk into the past

Did I ever really have a time that was really “good”?

Or was it always this bad

Has it always been this bad?

How is it I feel so blinded by the present

That I prefer the suffering of the past

Maybe it’s just the fact I acclimated to the suffering 

Like a frog in a pot slow to boil

Am I blissfully unaware that I’ve always been on fire?

Or is it simply that I lost the fight, yet stand for another beating through clenched and bloody teeth?

Have I ever really fought

Or have I been lucky


Everyone tells me I’m so strong 

But I don’t feel strong

I don’t feel brave

I don’t feel like a success story

I feel like somehow some way I was tragically lucky

Forced to stay alive to continually endure the beatings


What have I ever really done

Besides to be the poster child of lessons written in the mind of Aesop 

I am the Ophelia that was not fully consumed by the water

The wounded dog that limps along the roadside

I am the grief that remains unfelt

And the hand that always holds empty


What is my purpose,

If not to merely be the person one should never hope to end up as?

How can I be so blinded by a past skewed by a cracked and crooked lens?

How does one claim a great city while looking upon the ruins of Troy?

What joy springs from this, a pure spiral of failure?

A miserable cycle it is to live.



Comments

  1. Look upOctober 9, 2024 at 7:59 PM

    Like that tattoo that wraps around your left elbow.
    so you know you are in a cycle that keeps repeating.
    stop looking for things in other people.

    ReplyDelete

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