Reaching Out


I can’t forgive myself, how silly would that be?

I’ve done too many wrongs, seen too many things.

Possessed by demons, and controlled by drugs,

I have too much baggage, too much to lug.

But I can’t let go, even though it’s heavy weight.

I can’t forgive myself, because I fear it’s too late.

I’m disgusted with myself, I leant out my body,

I let go of what I knew, what my parents taught me.

To gain a high, I did everything I shouldn’t have,

I did horrid things that sober I wouldn’t have.

How could I have fallen so far down?

Who’s to blame for my being bound?

I let go of drugs and numbness has gone,

I don’t like what I feel, it’s all so wrong.

A voice whispers burdens of my worthlessness,

I take on this truth, though I’m hurt by this.

Ceasing the voice becomes difficult to do,

It’s yelling, telling me things I already knew.

I’m a half opened package, I’m wholly tainted,

I’m the picture of unworthy the Devil has painted.

I slice myself open, I can’t take anymore,

I hate myself, I hate being torn.

My wrists are leaking blood, my eyes are dripping tears,

I’m sinking beyond my unfulfilled life and all its fears.

A constraint of emotions embedded in my flesh,

Reveal my true heart, at its best.

I don’t want to hurt, I hate the cards that I’ve been dealt.

But I’m letting go today and asking for help.





© Chelsie Cummings 2016


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