It's funny, how history repeats
Each time I'm fooled by deceit
The same type I keep on choosing
Different faces, same old bruising
I'm led to believe I'm their treasure
But it's only a fleeting pleasure
When I'm drowning in their lies
They never knew I could rise
Survival has become my art
From the depths, I chart
A course away from the shore
To rid myself of these monsters forevermore
The cycle must come to an end
No more swapping one for a friend
It's time to recognize the signs
And leave the past behind
So here I stand, empowered
My heart no longer soured
It's funny, how all this is not new
But I'm ready to start anew.
About the Creator
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The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipity3 days ago in Confessions
Comments (1)
just wow. fantastic. each day brings new beginnings. love it.