Riva Murphy

The Thing & I

I am a living, breathing poem, a compilation of lyrics, and an enigma. I am dramatized, by traumas past and a life that is unequivocally mine.

The Thing and I
By Kymlee Kopera
Copyright 2012

How many moons
have come and passed,
As I lay here with my thoughts,
and the Thing, The Thing and I.

Wide awake, the ills of night,
I am in its grasp again,
Oh, how I was afraid of dawn,
When darkness was my friend.

It holds my hand and whispers doubt,
"A worthless lot are you."
Years will pass, the pain remains,
strangely, comfort now it brings.

How many years
have I fought your voice,
Telling me to pull my cord,
yes the Thing, The Thing and I.

Overwhelmed, my heart has been
I was but a seed.
Now a grown woman, this much, I am
a woman scorned, no less.

I knew the day I visited her
she would see you standing there.
right next to me, it's plain as day
the dark Thing latched onto me.

How many nights
will I lie awake
when the sorrow is more than enough
with my Thing, the Thing and I.

She said you were a burden to me
Transferred to life inside the womb.
I was destined to bear that weight
and expected to have a life too?

She told me I had much to do
A long life to behold
And not to take my life because
that's exactly what you want me to do.

How many days
will I keep believing
that my time to be free will be near,
free of the Thing, and be just I.

So I pose a question, to my dark friend,
will you stop with your persisting?
You should be joyous now as I'm numbed
from all the time you've put in.

You can tell your master
You've done your work
and on to the next one you'll be,
be their Thing. Their Thing and they.

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