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.