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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #1299202
A poem I wrote about some of my emotional troubles
Picking, pulling, tearing,
I’m always ripping at the skin.
Peeling layer after layer,
I must find the secret within.

I’m striving for perfection,
But it never seems to come.
I no longer feel the pain,
My body has gone numb.

Maybe if I keep going,
I’ll find it after all.
Maybe once I fix it,
I won’t feel so small.

Perhaps it’s control I seek,
Through my constant strife.
Or maybe the mania’s due to sorrow,
I’ve felt for all my life.

I hate that I cannot mend it,
My mind, my heart, my past.
Maybe if I keep going,
I’ll reach happiness at last.

Do I want to change myself?
Or find my childhood friend?
Is it me I miss the most?
Or is it mom in the end?

I know it wasn’t me,
That hurt her in such a way.
I can’t help but regret it all,
No matter what they say.

No one can ever see,
The pain it causes me within.
Most will never know this,
What’s masked behind my grin.

I am peeling, splitting, clawing,
I pull the skin away.
This obsession shows the truth,
My masquerade it does betray.

Maybe one day I’ll find it,
The thing I’m searching for.
Maybe it will make the past all worth it,
And maybe she’ll love me all the more.
© Copyright 2007 Betsy Elfkyn (betsyelfkyn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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