Damaged Goods

I am damaged goods.
I am forever broken.
I am beyond repair.
That is my excuse.

I have not known innocence.
My parents were self-absorbed.
They were strangers,
they ignored me.

I grew up alone, a defiant adolescent.
Rejection, neglect, and disdain were normal.
I sought comfort from
strangers,
substances,
selfish desires.
I learned to disguise my pain with laughter.
I learned my self-respect was shattered.

I have not known distress.
My silence melts it away.
I have success,
portraying strength.
Yet I am weak, a fragile creature.

Reckless, callous, and hardened I’ve become.
I seek comfort from
my affliction,
my anger,
my aching.
I learned to hurt the people who love me.
I learned to embrace the ghosts that haunt me.

I have not known affection.
My camouflage hides my shame.
Yet I have friends,
they’re my addictions.
They understand me, they sympathize.
Shelters, harbors, and temples they’ve become.

I seek comfort from
cravings,
compulsions,
coercions.
I learned to keep my walls well guarded.
I learned to accept this fate disheartened.

That is my excuse.
I am beyond repair.
I am forever broken.
I am damaged goods.

Photo Credit: mripp via Compfight cc

Written by 

After living under a rock for nearly 25 years, Dave had his eyes opened wide to the world in 2010 after marrying his crazy cat lady wife. Intrigued by controversy, culture, lifestyle, current events and history, Dave has traveled to 41 states and a handful of foreign countries. Defined as ‘metro’ by his three kids, you will often find him cleaning the house instead of working out in the yard. In his spare time, Dave likes to write sappy love songs but will be the first to admit that he can’t carry a tune.

5 thoughts on “Damaged Goods

  1. Thank you for the kind words. I must admit that this poem is not about me, but my observations of others.

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