My Last Poem


Some days I wish I could take back things I've done in the past.

I wouldn't be as mentally fucked up as I am today.

On the other hand, I wouldn't be able to see the red flags and know them.

But still, I see the flags.

I know they're not yellow, green, or even pink.

I see they're red, yet I keep on a truckin'.

Because of this I have been raped,

And I have been emotionally backed into a corner for almost a whole year.

Are my legs just too short to reach the brake pedal?

Or am I just that much of a glutton for pain and anguish?

Instead of taking the recommended detour, I keep going through the roadblock and drive off the cliff on the other side.

I know it's there and it's just so alluring.

I must punish myself by pleasing others.