This was written at a time when I was feeling exhausted and spent; dangling as though on a string like a marionette.
Some laugh at the world – but what’s to laugh at?
It used to be so easy – but I can’t remember how.
A ghostly chuckle in my ears –
A relaxed, contented smile before my eyes:
My voice. My smile. My ears. My joy.
They seem so distant to me now; plunged in the depths
of self-pity, loneliness, frustration and depression.
The wells of my eyes are barren.
There is no relief for the dryness of my heart
as it cracks and I dangle from a string.
If I refuse the string, I could live a life
of sheer and utter relief;
Relief from the barrage of emotions that storm me
from minute to minute…
hour to hour…
day to day.
In the depths of the gully I would gladly surrender
the thrill of soaring the heights.
At the heights I would wish me more string.
In the middle – I pause and wish for moderation –
But what the cost?
livingwithablackdog 