More of my poetry this time a metaphor of a string


1. This one string

Some days its as if there is a string pulling me
I want to break this string, so I can break free
My mind's like a machine
But this machine has no screen
My mind goes off my mind goes on
I follow my head and now I'm gone
Sometimes the string pulls me toward laughter and friends
Sometimes the string pulls me the other way and it wins
Sometimes I fight the urge of the string, to no avail 
Then, it has my body and power, and I feel like a fail
I fight the urges of this string today, as I keep my mouth quiet
Instead I grab my journal and write, I will at least try it 
This new tactic of coping, this new way of spilling my actions
The pen is in my hand, I want it to offer a distraction
I physically bite my tongue as I try to fight the string
It's tied one to one, there are two fighters in the ring
One fighter is demanding, obsessive, and cruel
The other is happy, ready, and wants to rule
Over the first fighter, it demands too much from all
The second fighter wants defeat, and to be free from the call
The first fighter grabs and won't let go of this second fighter
It grabs and wraps its tight grip tighter and tighter
For one moment the fighter is taken down by the first
But then something clicks and the second is told, "This is not the worst"
As the first fighter takes its mighty blows again and again
The second fighter is frustrated and just wants to win
The on going fight that has hid itself for years in the dark
Although they are not visible, the blows have left their marks
As the fight goes on and on one becomes stronger 
One fighter will win and emerge victorious from the ring
I am the second fighter and the first is the string

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