I am my own worst enemy.
I mean that quite literally.
Stress and boredom inside,
it turns in to self destruction.
Cutting, burning, hitting myself.
Its been months since I gave in,
but the battle gets harder each day,
and I am hanging from the wagon.
I want to climb back in to it,
but my hands are so very tired.
Will they slip or will they hold?
My only option now is to hope,
that the battle one day eases,
and that my strength returns.
Poetry
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I think the use of the wagon is an interesting word choice. After I read the poem a few times, I realized why the wagon kept reminding me of something. When an alcoholic has a drink, we use the phrase “he fell off the wagon.” Here, you inverted that common phrase and put the “I” outside the wagon. The wagon represents the confinement of addiction, and the person is still resisting that confinement, although he is unable to completely remove himself from temptation. “I want to climb back into it,/but my hands are so very tired.” He wants to continue resisting the urge to self-harm, but he is not sure if he can. Good use of metaphor!
I very sincerely appreciate your analysis of my poem. I am so glad that you liked it. Thank you! 🙂