Cliff

The bitter, scarring painOf those I thought to be my friendsTurning and rejecting me.Family and loved onesAre not the same people.My childhood innocenceFades more and more rapidly.All the grief and heartacheOf years pastShred my heart to pieces. I want to escape,But I'm locked in.There is no turning back from this path.I cannot change my past.Every moment that I liveHas become the past.Each breath.Each tear.Each laugh.Each moment.They live in the past.They cannot return.The past is gone for eternity.It is a prison whose members are never released.I cannot live tereNo matter how much I may try. My heart whispers,"The present is your life.Leave your past behind youFor that is where it belongs."But my head screams,"You cannot escape the past.It will always hold you.No matter how much you reject and run from it,It is where you live." I spent a whole year runningTrying to hide,Trying to block the voices out,Trying to reject their cries,Trying to rid myself of the pain they brought.I blocked their cries with music and friends,Yet they forced themselves throughTheir voices flooding my mind again.So I kept running.I ran and ran and ranTill I came to the edge of the cliffWith nowhere left to run.I had to stand.I had to be strong.I had to make a choice.Tears streamed down my face.The pain ripped and clawed at my heart.I closed my eyes and listened.In the silence, I heard a gentle voice.The gentle voice of my heartCalling softly"Your past is gone and your present is here." I opened my eyes and jumped off the cliff.Yet I did not jump.I stand here today,For the person I used to be made the leapLeaving me alone to watch it perish. Me.The real me.The me that is fragile and scaredScared of more pain and rejection,Scared of being hurt again,Scared of being torn apart till there is nothing left.Yet the me that is free,Free of the past,Free of pain,Free of fear.Free.I am free. I spent a year runningA year that is in the past.The past that left,That jumped off the cliff,That is trapped in its own prisonFrom which it shall never escape.The past that is gone for eternity. No longer will my past shape me,For I will shape my future.               

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me

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