I can't help it

and I know it

but I'm stuck.


My feelings,

like quicksand,

have a firm hold of me

and just won't let go.


I'm stuck in the past,

the pain on my heart 

like a stain on carpet

imposible to remove.



there is something wrong 

with me.

Maybe something 

is messed up.

Maybe that is the reason

I can't let go.


I cling to the pain

like it is my saving grace.

Because in some sick,

twisted way, 

the pain is better

than nothing at all.


But the days

where I 

don't want to feel

seem to be

the days 

the pain comes back

the most.


I can't get rid of you.

I can't get rid of the pain.

And just when I think

that I am finally over,

finally through,

I see something else 

to remind my wounded,

battered heart

of you.

This poem is about: 


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