At first all I felt was just a pinch or two
perhaps likened to an itch upon my foot.
Then a vague uncertainty arose as the sting grew worse.
Words were spoken to confuse me, demeaning my worth
But he’s right, I’m wrong, it’s all meant for my benefit.
I became expert at shoving those doubts aside,
and not wanting to notice them as the years rolled by.
But my insides knew something was drastically wrong,
an insidious pall was taking over my heart.
The atmosphere of our life grew pervasively ill.
I started to decline; my head grew heavy;
my mind was being manipulated by a calculating crazy.
I grew worrisome and anxious–what was the truth?
My body knew the answer but my mind wouldn’t follow suit.
Eventually I woke up–I faced it at last, the sober reality was that I had to get out.
You’ll never make it without me, was his shout as I walked out the door.
But the freedom and confidence I felt was no illusion,
There’s no one outside of me making my decisions.
Monday’s Poetry Potluck: Doubts, Fear, Inhibitions and Hesitations; http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/