PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Naively deceived about this identity, 

   I used others to abuse me, mock me,

      confuse me 

Their words were really my words

So far strayed in the shadows,

   dreadfully desperate to escape the prison 

   of fear I had built around myself,

   too cowardly to hold a knife to my

   own throat, eventually reifying a brother

      to do it for me, his hands were really

         my hands

He failed though he did heed the call

May I be forgiven for exploiting his fealty