The Grip

Fingers gripping,
a strain in the joints,
knuckles painted in white,
as they squeeze around my heart...
crushing my ability to feel,
and shaking every breath away.
The reflex is to begin beating again,
but to my little heart, this is home
and one of the few things I can count on...
Strangulation until all emotions are void.
my heart relaxes against this familiar hand,
a weak beat continues in subtlety
as the sun stays hidden somewhere beyond the trees
The familiar fog moves in,
moving and twisting around my silhouette
blinding my judgement
hands outstretched, I need to touch... something
to know that I'm still real
but I'm betrayed by my fingertips
as they only feel the air
and I relax into the emptiness again.
The struggle is too exhausting,
the fight too much to bear.
Arms that settle to my sides,
fingers graze my thighs,
a flutter of my lashes
finally... I open my eyes.
But what is it that I see?
So many eyes staring back, at me.
Each one muttering, chanting promises... a curse
a reminder that everything is broken,
I was but a shiny token
until they found the deep sadness,
hidden within the maze of my mind.
Each time I turned to leave,
they followed my scent in the wind,
and tried to grasp the rattling chains that dragged,
but I was moving faster, than they could see...
consumed by a pain that never leaves.
An ever present, unrelenting, misguided stain,
until I find myself back in the emptiness,
so I don't have to feel it again. 

Reviews

[Chris]

You run so hard to end at the beginning again and again.

[Aramey]

A sigh of relief to know that someone understands. Thank you Chris :)

[Everett DeValle]

Deep, Aramey...one of my friends, she's on Vicodin from back pains she suffered many years ago from on the job injury...very emotive...I think the poem speaks beautifully by itself. My coffee and read for the morning. :)

[Aramey]

I'm proud to be a part of your morning routine :) Thank you for stopping to read.

[Everett DeValle]

You are most welcome, Aramey. :)