The deadbeat

As I stare at the photos that once captured the deadbeat I can’t help but to ponder and sob as I remember how it never caught the beating the deadbeat gave to me, I cried until he untied me, I feel like the mission was to end me, now I look at others and all I feel is envy... they look so happy... I never felt happy... i missed out on the light other are filled with... the deadbeat took that from me, and now I’m afraid to be me... but if you hear something late at night, some kind of fight just don’t worry anymore, Don’t put up a fight... until one hit and you cry, you suddenly realise... it’s best not to ask why, you just don’t argue anymore. I plastered on my morning smile, a convincing one.. my eyes cannot help but to run, I’ve truely ran out of luck, I’m surprised I’m not on my ninth life. But as I leaned closer to the mirror, it pained me to see nothing but me... the old me, as I watched the decency leaving me, as I said my goodbyes to the life I once lived I wished you’d never met me, because baby... me and you both know, you never truely loved me... your just the deadbeat that sleeps beside me.

-Chloie

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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