Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I should.
I know I must and yet I mustn’t
For my own sanity, for my own sake.
I know I must, but then I won’t?
A step forward, no more behind.
Maybe he’ll come for me.
When I finally get the courage to leave his house.
Do I want that?
I’m not so sure…
Maybe he won’t though
Oh but he’s charming, the little voice whispers.
This little voice I’ve grown to loathe.
Yet it’s apart of my very being.
SHUT IT, my inner aggressive speaks.
But I have to admit, he is charming.
He’ll hold my hand and whisper of days of old.
He won’t let me forget.
Remember when I killed for you, he’ll say.
Remember how you cheered me on as I strangled him.
I did that for you, you cannot leave, He’ll say.
And damn him, he’s right.
He saved me.
But I can’t stay here, not anymore
I’ve given him my best years
Thirty of them.
Yet he won’t let me leave.
I know he won’t let me leave.
I don’t know if this counts as poetry. Poets speak!
For day 6 of #ugblogweek