I keep telling myself it's not worth it,
It doesn't even work but
Something in me misses it,
Hears the old voice, and wants to listen to it;
But 'just one last time' becomes 'just once more',
Reminding myself all the times I've been here before,
Staring at the same rotting floor,
Even though I swore
I wouldn't do it again, I wouldn't go back,
Yet here I am, under yet another attack
From myself, on a constant backtrack,
Perhaps it's now broken down, crack after crack.
Old habits die hard, but I die harder,
Piece by piece, I'm losing the armour,
The darkest day are getting darker;
Quite interesting to see if this will go any farther.
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
