Infliction
You drag me in, you push me out, so tell me why I should care.
I try and I fail to figure you out, and pine when you aren't there.
I hate that I love you - I mean it; it's like a drug, a scar self-inflicted;
It hurts, the more I need it - obsessed. Possessed. Addicted.
I'm dizzy from this circle of gloom - sick of the disappointment I face.
Do I tell you this sentence of doom, or stay here
In my inferior, perpetual place?
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Infliction, which
was posted on Dec 7, 2011 by
TheGirlInTheCupboard.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"The latest of my series of horribly neatly-structured poems. Feedback and rating..."
This poem is filed under:
Teen / Young Adult
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