The bitter man
never got to let go.
It ate away within.
The surge of intensity
at work beneath the skin.
A buried hidden thing.
Constant noise ringing
through his head a grinding din.
Hate brushed every nerve,
severed ever thread. Rage
contained within a grin.
He blamed everything,
but mostly he blamed himself,
must have been him
he thought.
Hurt always ends up
another ornament upon his shelf.
I see what I was,
I witness the loss.
I take every strand
of hair, I stand heart bare.
Every moment I lost the view
in a rueful stare. Every time I was left
gasping, clutching for air,
throat choking on the lump I put there,
from the hurt I made myself accept as fair.
I realise now that I never deserved the suit
I made myself wear. I never deserved
the hurt I let myself bear.
I didn't deserve to feel so abused,
misused.
The discarded and batter old truth.
I wasn't the problem.
but then neither were you.
The man with nothing to crawl to,
let alone walk into. Faded
into the undergrowth. Dug a grave,
etched his name and lay drowning his days.
Feeling betrayed, he let his days become slack.
He let the night become his day,
and his daytimes turned black.
He watched himself wither away.
until there was nothing that remained.
Blamed himself, blamed the world,
blamed the seas, blamed the alcohol.
Blamed the disease. Blamed the sirens call,
but the blame only fell at one door,
and it was just the one that sits unanswered,
no one lives there anymore.
I see what I was,
where I lost, how I gained
from the hurt and at what cost.
I rebuilt from the shards,
from that torn deck of cards.
I found all the good that was left,
all the hurt I kept at arm’s length,
whilst I still felt bereft. I found a new breath.
A new sense of hope. Not a gurgle of death.
I followed a path to someplace far away.
It promised oh so much,
but the unread sign said misery.
So now, I chose my paths more wisely,
and I take the view slowly,
taking in the scenery.
Thanks for reading
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