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Rated: GC · Poetry · Adult · #2161922
Fictional Poem about abuse.
Setback

I suppose I could have been called oblique or docile,
I loved them, however, they thought I was less than them.
Less than anything you can find under the ground,
And less than anything you will ever see.
They never told me this,
It was the way they looked at me.
A pallid face.
I don’t think they ever liked me.
I try to think of the good times we had,
When I first found them.
When their smile made me feel affable,
And the look in their eyes when they used to look at me,
When it wasn’t filled with such anger.
I wanted to reminisce forever.
But I wanted to know why,
Why they started to know me,
Why we started.
I wanted to forage for the answer,
But I didn’t have the energy.
They drained me of what was left of me before they came.
The solace and sadness they found in me when they arrived,
Why didn’t they leave me?
Did they only want to hurt me?
I could have been ok if they hadn’t come.
If I reached out for help when I was using,
I would have been better off.
They pushed me to be sullen… and broken.
They made me want to use again.
They were my breaking point,
They were my thin ice.
They were my hindrance,
They were my setback.

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