Til The End

It’s a fight to the death.

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The Art Of Being Self-Absorbed

Image result for narcissist

I was once called a narcissist. Unbelievable coming from a 30+ years old friend. 

I do understand what a narcissist is now, as I lived with one for 18 years. It happened to be my mother. I also know that I have been influenced by her behavior which in turn could lead me to mimic it at times. Understanding who she was and the impressions she left, forced me to look at myself diligently. There are many articles and so much information about this personality type. All of which I feel the need to read, to this day. Fear of becoming her is the biggest motivator. I’m ensuring I do not ever become the worst of who my mother was.

Bottom line, that ex-friend was full of shit. She was deflecting because, in reality, the narcissist in our relationship was her. I had basically traded one unhealthy relationship for another. A knee-jerk reaction, just reaching out for what was familiar. And it took me forever to figure that out.

Knowing what a narcissist is now has helped me understand why I have allowed so many others over the years with the same tendencies to become friends with me. They enmeshed themselves in my life so effortlessly only to watch as they abruptly and harshly disappointed me. They left some deep marks.

All have been hard lessons.

Needless to say, I work hard now at not repeating history.

Let Me Go

need strength to walk
away from pleasure and pain
the remnants of our past
keep me connected to you

my brain thunders
with the memories
of our souls being as one
the connection everlasting

a fleeting hope of resurrection
pins me to you still
a false statement of contrition
tires my commitment

stop playing games
with my affection
break this hold
if it’s not real

please let me break free

Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge Week 63 
Image provided from post

Distorted

 

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Oleksandr Kurchev

waves of hate
inward and out

years of betrayal
misuse and mishandling

all that is wrong
is not righted

all that has healed
is not pretty

all that is pretty
is a mask we wear

the back side of smiles
hiding the ugly scars

where is the beauty
in you or in me

A Box Full Of Life

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Roman Kraft

Opening the lid to the past.

Joy, tears, and laughter escape.

Youthful feelings rushing back expectedly.

Playing in the past like it was yesterday.

Staying there is tempting,

in the good ‘ole days.

But were they really?

Boxed memories are nearly all good.

Who saves the crap?

Those moments slowly come back too.

Time to close the lid.

Back to reality.

Ill-Made

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She was damaged by circumstance
against her will.

The patterns of dysfunction became habits of life.
She claimed her internal baggage to carry onward.

Life was always challenging.
The rewards were seemingly unattainable.

Happiness was strived for but just out of reach.
A bitter, lonely end was her destiny.

And inevitably, she ceased to exist.

Understood

sdf

Do you hear me?
Do you get me?

Feel the urgency,
the intensity?

Do I resonate in your mind?
Does understanding flood your thoughts?

I hope, I wish.
Or will you always back away?

Hide your feelings and your thoughts,
dismissing me.

Letting go, more and more.
Inch by inch, problem by problem.

Can’t you hear that I need you?
I want you.

Lost now in anger, resentment, and fear.
Yours and Mine.

Where’s the connection between us now?
Was there ever one, really?

Can you feel me?
No, I don’t think you can.