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Fate
How am I supposed to deal with this feeling I was dealt with?
Weighed down by the stone tied around my ankles,
My feet drag with every step that I take.
Every inch forward is heavy,
Crawling through trenches of pain.
The pit in my stomach is only digging itself deeper,
My face is stained black from mascara dripping down my cheeks.
Curled into a ball on the carpet of my bedroom floor,
Trying to breathe in between sobs.
One moment I am fine,
The next I am unrecognizable.
I didn’t know I could feel myself dissolve away
as my body indents the cold hard ground.
It hurts and I am numb,
I am simply a creature of habit,
Breaking down only when I am stung.
I lay there in the midst of the moonlight’s midnight glow,
My thoughts echoing, the voices ringing.
I lay there wide awake into ungodly hours of the night.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go,
This is not who I was supposed to be.
I cannot shake this feeling away,
That I am a disappointment.
No one can be proud of me—
No one should be.
I cannot expect anyone to be pleased,
Why should I?
I have let everyone down,
And that is suffocating me.
Praying someone will come save me,
Out of fear that I will perish with my face blue and my bones bruised—
Resting in this pain that I fear is my fate.
Copyright ©
Ada Monroe
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