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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1673488
A recountal of wavering between freedom and enslavement gives an eavesdropper hope.
For that girl who told me that I gave her "so much hope"

Not that I was heartily tainted
But that I was desperate
To find some sort of a tranquilizer
Something that disengaged me
From my own wrecked world
It never occurred to me
That my desperation
Would give you hope

And not that it dulled my pain,
Tranquilizers are just evanescent
You wake up to face
Your own wrecked self again
But with a more fragile soul
For it subsides with every dose,
It hangs like a defeated old man's neck
That only evokes pity entangled with scorn

At first it was private
Then it strangled me like a string,
Like the way you feel when the air is dry
And the bleakness of a gray sky.
That was when I decided
That the heavy weight on my heart,
The smothered cries
Should be dragged out from within me
Only then I was free

Still like a swing
Tossed by a wild wind
Swinging here, swinging there
Enslaved by the wind's whims
But how can I tell you?
I found my freedom
In an outburst of "NO"
When the mirror despised
The shattered reflection of mine.
It despised every part of me.
That was when the swing
Stood still.


And as my own shattered reflection died
And my own story of redemption told
Your hope was born

It never occurred to me
That my tale of rebirth
Would give you hope


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