Coming Down

i was wrong, but that’s not a surprise to you, is it

That a single kiss, or even a thousand

Could quell the myriad of separate destructions

Which had already taken over my brain

 

That any love, no matter how strong

Could control the thoughts

When i’d long since lost control

 

And if i couldn’t maintain the state

Of my own self insides, the brain which i own

Then what was one girl going to do

To tame that which had long since run away

 

i guess perhaps i’d hoped

Much to your-- dear readers’-- amusement

That a conversation, or deep belief, could reimagine me

 

More accurately, take me back

To who i was before i told myself that i was less

And certainly before i let those voices gain enough strength

To systematically disable my soul

 

And maybe she did, for a while, revive me

It’s at least one more check in the reasons to rise

She’s one more hand holding back the battering ram

The influx of thoughts that won’t cease

 

But even if there’s nothing

That her lips, hands, touch

Can do for my piecemeal mind

 

i still want to touch her

To hold her, love her, kiss her

The only problem is the doubt

Of whether she wants to be mine

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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