I must stop falling
Before I hit the floor.
I will not survive
If I hit the floor.
I shall fall straight through,
Fracturing the crust of the Earth,
Spiralling down
To the fiery underworld...
And I will see faces
That I thought were lost
Years ago,
Stolen by a skeletal hand.
That hand beckons to me,
And my will to resist
Is as mortal as
My lovelorn flesh.
I am still falling -
Harder, faster
With each of her gentle smiles
That light up her eyes.
I cannot help but fall
When she puts her arms
Around me from behind
And pulls me closer.
Closer - I am closer to the floor
Than I have been
In such a long while...
I don't want to go there again.
I have been discarded,
Thrown aside, unwanted...
I have been the plastic bag
In the wind.
Have I ever stopped being
That bag in the wind?
I simply fly higher
Than I did before...
Here comes the storm -
It will strike me down,
I'm sure, and I
Will continue to fall.
And fall,
And fall.
For what reason would she catch me?
I am going to fall
Straight through the floor,
And you will forget me.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
