Another poem today.
*Warning: dark poem, contains dark themes, death, suicide.
By Bobbie Porter
At my peak,
physically,
Wild and free,
Not a problem for me.
The stalking begins,
A guinea pig,
Let’s bet on who wins.
The frog is placed in a pot of water.
Reacting in fear,
Nothing was clear.
Turning up the heat,
To see what I will do.
Jumping through hoops,
The water is slowly boiling.
No where to turn.
It comes from all sides.
I ask for help and
Should I leave?
They reply: 100%
My self says,
‘Trust no one.’
It’s too late,
My secrets I already gave,
Her on how to leave me in high water.
Abandoned,
Betrayed,
A set up suicide is portrayed.
But in my best game,
So, I run and flee for better.
This being the exact funnel,
and funeral,
Meant for only me to tunnel.
No where else to go,
Buried inside,
In a deep and dark place.
Where it all began.
A frog that is slowly boiled.
I don’t run.
I can’t hide.
The demon I face
Is what comes up in my mind.
Obsessed I became.
It took a life of its own.
It took on a life of its own.
In day.
In night.
Connections were made.
Memories became.
My being and brain
Were forced to change.
It never let up,
For months at a time.
The terror ensued.
Unable to move,
Frozen in time,
and crippling fear.
Remembering was hard,
A shock at its best.
But what was more grave,
The first.
The second.
The third.
The blindfold I wore,
Had brought back a ghost.
Let’s play connect.
The domino effect.
This is why we are here.
This is why we are here.
I got used to the burn.
The blow to my head,
That left me for dead.
Years later,
Instead,
I awake.
So the question remains.
Are you my savior or my annihilator?
It was the cruelty you caused
That made me wake up.
The message came,
Crystal clear.
‘It is both,’ She said.
Just like she said before.
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