Torn in Two

Complications were her forte once upon a time,

What could go wrong was a genuine guarantee,

She didn’t strive for trouble, it was not her cup of tea,

But a sign on her forehead screamed ‘pick me, pick me.’

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She was built of moral fortitude, stressed throughout childhood,

Riddled with shame, full of guilt, a mess of mixed emotions,

Lacking in self esteem, a crazy voice inside her head cursing her,

A battle of wills inside her heart, causing havoc and commotions.

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Is it any wonder then that she was a broken mess of contradiction?

An insecurity of mass productions through turmoil and stress,

Volatility her middle name, anger and rage to blame,

A cocktail of depression waiting to explode, no less.

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Throw into the mix a love she didn’t deem she was worthy of,

An oath to which she was bound, no longer through want or need,

But a promise she’d made to another, a lifetime of error,

A monstrosity of mistakes, her guilt and shame to then feed.

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She was caught between her dreams and her moral compass,

And had to make a decision that she felt in her heart was right,

That she could comfortably live with, regardless of the traumatic pain,

That caused her to decide the oath she taken was the winner of this fight.

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Sadly, there was an innocent party caught up in her web of ties,

One that didn’t deserve the pain she threw their way,

No amount of gentleness could ease the destruction in her wake,

And she had to hold her head high and honour her decision that day.

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She walked forward with intention, fearful of looking back,

The tears in heart cascading in a torrent of waterfalls,

She almost faltered within her strength and turned to go back,

But she soldiered on, did what she believed was right when duty calls.

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In the end it was all for naught,

A terrible mistake of epic proportions,

But the damage was done, the pain worn,

And nothing could fix the crippling distortions.

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But knowing everything she now knows today,

She’d make the same decision twice over,

Because she had to give it her all,

Or her guilt and shame would deem a hostile takeover.

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The mistake was the original oath taken,

She’d known that the day it had been made,

By then the damage was done,

And she’s sorry for the innocence that paid!

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Originally published on Medium