Dancing The Tyburn Jig

'When being hung they would only have a few inches of drop at most and thus many of them would writhe in convulsive agony for some moments, their legs paddling the air - “dancing the Tyburn jig”'

Memories of us together

Still haunt this lonely mind,

But when I cut my wrists,

It's never you I find.

I dig deeper into myself

Chasing your white rabbit of a smile,

But for every step I take,

I fall back another mile.

If I get close enough to the edge,

Might I spot a glimpse of you?

If I dive into the abyss,

Will you flee from there too?

I kept all your secrets my dear,

So will you catch me if I leap?

If I drown in the ocean,

Will you carry me down to the deep?

I'm getting just a bit reckless now,

In my attempts to catch you up,

On foot in the grave, one in mid-air,

Do I step back or do I jump?

It seems it's been forever

Since I stood on solid ground,

Before I put that mask on,

Vowed never to make a sound.

But I won't give this up yet,

I'll give this bitter world another chance;

Something they never gave you,

Noose around your neck, leaving you to dance.