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Compulsions

Nightmares, blocked out
Scarred remains of who I was
They were left behind for a reason
And yet, they’ve come back
I’ve felt uneasy before, restless
Why don’t they stay dead?
Disturbances in my head
There’s been a fluke in the system

It’s like my wallpaper
Peeled back, their corners
Just begging
To be ripped

Or perhaps how a wildflower wishes to be seen
Beneath leaves
Waiting for the moment, someone notices
Its hard efforts to bloom under decay

I’ve moved on, haven’t I?
I’ve grown
Why the hell then, do these images
One hung on frames
Come back knocking once more?
I burned them
They were boxed at one point, but even those packages were incinerated

Why don’t they stay dead?

Many days and nights I’ve thought about it
My eyes reflect such anguish in blackened lids
Ambiguity is my demon

They are dead, but I am not
And so long as I breathe, there will always be
Little bits of wallpaper torn
Curious petals in the dirt
I think the rest is up to me.
Written by Thetravelingfairy
Published
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