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Running Scared

And there it was again
The fear of being hurt
That had her adrenalin
Pumping instinctively
Getting her ready
To start running again
The old patterns
Of self preservation
Kicking in, licking
The old wounds
And invisible scars
That were still
Fucking winning
Sometimes
Their ugliness
Creeping into her life
Without any good reasons
Making her choke
On the best three words
With the terror he’d taught her
Suffocating her into silence
And still unforgettable, even
After all these years
Making her wonder
How she would ever
Overcome her fears
When love itself
Was the main trigger
For the memories of a lover
She’d kept buried for years
A Jekyll and Hyde man
Who’d almost killed her
But, only after he’d first
Won her over
Under the guise
That he loved her
And, what a wicked trap
That was
Though, I suppose
We all live pretty close
To our demons
On most days

2 Comments

  • Sharon Cudek commented on September 11, 2015

    Hi Suzanne,

    As I read this I can feel your pain and confusion.
    Love–always protects, always trusts and always hopes.
    How great is love lavished on us with gifts and beautiful words and amazing passion.
    Love is also actions, trust, considerate. There is no jealousy in love. There is no fear in love. Love drives out fear.

    • suzanne commented on September 11, 2015

      Poetry is part fiction, part real. A momentary emotion sometimes. A way of dealing with the difficult emotions. Getting them out, so to speak. And healing. I thank you for sharing your words Sharon.

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