Marionette.
Silence rings in my ears, my heart beats with pain.
I lay sluggish waiting for and end, but I only hear the oncoming of future.
I squeeze my eyes close and wish for things that can’t happen, and receive nothing in return.
Somehow my hearts beats, though through the pain I’m not sure how.
My arms and feet move without my orders, and act out the play of life without my command.
Slipping away into the coma, a welcome party awaits.
Missing the dullness of emotion, I reach for acceptance in escape.
A marionette I shall be till the next intermission.
