“It’s not a case of believing that I need to punish myself”, she implored,

“But when you have moments of clarity that make you realise

The ridiculousness of the hopes and dreams

That your imagination allows you to conjure up,

I cannot help but feel humiliated, disgusted and ashamed

That I let it happen”.


Taking a deep breath, she continues “That sinking realisation…

It’s like nothing else, it rips through you

Tearing part of you away.

You are witnessing all those thought-filled hopes

Be crushed in front of your eyes.

You are forced to watch as they are disdainfully tossed aside

Into an indistinguishable withering heap of judgement”.


Her eyes fall to her lap.

“Surely there is only so many times that this can happen?!

Otherwise, what would be left?

Everything always goes too far,

You get swept up and carried away before you have time to look back.

I wanted to imagine, to hope

As a way of believing that things would be okay;

And that I didn’t have to feel so empty.

With echoes bouncing around menacingly inside me.


And still, every time I allow myself ridiculous indulgence

I risk being left with this”.


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