Puppet

I am a puppet
controlled by a soul that is who I was
I feel as creaky as an old wood,
covered in skin
sheets of tiger like skin with endless scars that screams sin

those who i love, i don't recognize
and hands
diverse of hands trying to pull me out
but I am a puppet
I do as my clueless soul say
She lives in the oceans of cloud
Pulling the strings made of fear that suffocates the sky
It tangles and it breaks, but it is always there
and new ones often comes uninvited

I am living and breathing and existing
but the familiarness is gone and I am lost
For I am a controlled puppet
of my own despair

- freya, 3817

This poem is about: 
Me

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