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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2200152-Puppet
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by Xiea Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2200152
I rewrote 'Puppet' in form of poetry for a contest...
I'm walking on the ledge,
The sharp edge piercing my feet.
My blood trickles across my skin,
And falls down into nothingness.

This darkness is blinding me, enveloping me
Consuming me, comforting me,
Reminding me that I'm too broken to be fixed,
Convincing me to give up and stop trying.

Oh, giving up and letting go!
The helplessness is calling out to me,
Like no one ever did before.
But as I reach out to it,
You cruelly pull me back up
from the strings that connect you to me,
That control me and loathe me.

I'm a puppet your hands,
And you simply won't let go of me.

Your strings usher me forth
Towards the ray of hope in vain.
Hope that seems so far away,
Hope in which I've lost all faith

Why won't you let go of me?
When all I want to do is eke out of existence.
You said you loved me, so I thought you'd understand,
My desire to disappear, and flicker away into darkness.

All I can conjure for you now is hate,
Even I stopped trying to hold onto long ago.
Release me for I don't believe,
That hope abounds can fill up my hollow soul.
There is nothing left of me to restore,
So give up on me already.

But your strings bound deep into my bleeding wrists,
The cuts, the blood and all this pain,
Reminds me that I don't really have a choice,
But to follow your futile ordain.

(Line count: 34)
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