The Old Me
I’m sitting right in front of me.
I left myself to watch my back.
In charge of damage control.
Unable to break my neck.
Years and years of purposeless crying.
Slowly breathing, like you’re slowly dying.
Becoming more and more of a mess.
One toe out of bed and regress.
The mirror was never kind.
It must have seen that I was blind.
Recurring, repulsive rituals.
The infinitude universe of the mind.
The future has a crack.
Seeing yourself while looking back.
Crawling, screaming, left behind.
Lost in a false memory.
There is nowhere better.
All alone in this together.
There is nothing worse.
A witch to lift a curse!
The Old Me
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Vincent van Zandvoort is a writer of poetry, prose & short fiction. Science fiction - fantasy - supernatural - thriller, drama. ©️ Copyright 2020-2023. Vincent van Zandvoort. All Rights Reserved.
I compose poetry and prose about the disappointments of life; dishonest people we come across; crushed hopes and expectations; the corruption that lies within everyone, but also lighter stuff. Go read it, and don't forget to like, tip, and share it. Much love, Vincent
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