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control.

a poem which encompasses the desire to be in complete control of…well, everything.

By zoe frenchmanPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
2
constantly tightening grip of control

the constant fixation of being in total control;

can adversely affect a person, as a whole;

its bitterness penetrates deep within the soul;

and can hinder the progress of any goal;

i’ve always been one to wish to dictate;

beyond what i remotely can;

which i believe is to compensate;

for anything that hasn’t gone according to plan;

sometimes it’s difficult to articulate;

my desire to govern how things are ran;

sometimes it’s painful to contemplate;

the root of where this obsession began;

control encircles my entire existence;

control includes an arduous persistence;

control strikes me deep in my core;

regardless of any barriers or distance;

control has me weeping on the floor;

because of my suffering, despite my resistance;

my mind and my heart are severely sore;

because of control’s authoritative consumption;

because of the mass amounts of obstruction;

and all of the destruction;

that went in conjunction;

with the emotion that triggers a malfunction;

control can manifest in a variety of ways;

sometimes it’s compulsion, sometimes it’s brazen craze;

control has affected my fundamental attitude;

control has a diverse impact on my mood;

control can deceive me to completely seclude;

control has caused my perception to be skewed;

control has influenced the way that i’ve viewed;

life itself, and myself, particularly my personality;

the need for control has a distinct brutality;

the power of control has distorted my mentality;

the strength of control has decreased my vitality;

the effects of control have utterly exhausted me;

i’m moving in the direction of my own mortality;

and the shining star on the path towards fatality;

is the leverage that control has obtained;

and the restriction of being completely chained;

by the tight grasp that control has gained;

my attempt to be free merely has me drained;

and the vivid details of war have been acutely engrained;

and center of conflict, which has remained;

completely unable to be contained;

is none other than the force of control;

control invokes me stare and scroll;

at of all the artificial posts on my phone;

and my brain transitions into a mental war zone;

of utter comparison and a manipulative tone;

and that exploitation can be blamed on control alone.

sad poetry
2

About the Creator

zoe frenchman

I’m Zoe, I’m 21, and I’m an aspiring writer, filmmaker, musician, & mental health advocate. I’m a poet and content writer currently enrolled in the Creative Writing BFA program at Full Sail U!

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