Broken Record Syndrome

I would think that after all this time
It would be nothing more then a memory,
erased by times soft and mesmerizing touch.
Nothing more than ink in my journal
And nothing more than what it was
But it isn’t. It is so much more.
Still to this day it tortures me.
It’s the black haze around my head
the darkness around each corner I turn
the constant torment in my mind.
Like a broken record it plays over and over again
stuck on that one note, never quitting.
The note haunts me in every waking hour
always ringing in my ears.
The note drives me to shed uncountable tears
forcing me to be who I’m not.
The more I try to repress these feelings
the more it laughs and provokes me to be miserable.

Broken Record Syndrome

tasha11

Joined May 2008

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