Poetry

Broken Record

“But then again,
when I think about it,
it’s me that is broken.”

It’s been said time and time again. Get over it. It was in the past. You need to let it go. On and on. Sometimes it starts to sound like a broken record. But then again, when I think about it, it’s me that is broken. Because I can’t simply let go or get over it. It lingers there. Haunting my thoughts. Terrorizing me in dreams. And so much more. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to say I’ve moved on and I’m no longer haunted. But who knows when that day will be?

© Sarah Doughty

Or if it will come at all.

6 thoughts on “Broken Record”

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