I Should Know Better

Experienced well in pain,

of every known form,

For me this is nothing,

but my seemingly, 'norm'.

 

My heart is a punching bag,

battered and bruised.

Neglected, discarded,

tossed aside...and used.

 

Why am I an easy target,

of other people's abuse?

Am I marked for my life,

Is my hoping, of no use?

 

I open myself up and take,

these constant, hurtful attacks.

But then they are always shocked,

when finally, I fight back.

 

Why am I so vulnerable,

and not worthy of affection?

Why am I the hapless victim, 

of this hurt and rejection?

 

I should know so much better,

been through it, many times before.

I'm my own worst, foolish enemy,

sticking around life, for yet more.

 

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Jesster's picture

cycles... i can certainly relate

Somewhere along the line, someone taught me to take all of these kinds of feelings and pour them into art. That, i suppose is why i started writing poems. It's a great way to free ourselves up from these types of thought patterns. And maybe even, eventually, free ourselves up from making the choices we make to allow ourselves to be treated poorly. If we start treating ourselves with the same kind of respect we would like to receive from others, perhaps we would be more successful at disallowing disrespect. 

 

All respect,

Hopefulwoman


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Beatnik1979's picture

Scars

on top of scars...

on top of yet more scars....

 

but think of of how tough the skin becomes ?

 

no real consolation.... for sure.

 

find an outlet to relieve some of that pain...you may completely forget about what ails you as long as you are engrossed 

 

well done...and bravo for putting it out there.