livingwithablackdog

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?