How is it that I've recovered and you're still in the shit hole?
I've pulled myself up out of the quicksand and started driving at 88mph away from the scene only to look back and find that you are still stuck; sinking lower, maybe just able to reach a stick but still not able to pull yourself out.
How do I handle this?
Do I keep driving and hope you can get out of it?
No. Absolutely not.
But how do I get you out? I can't pull you out myself. It's like a sick game.
(Reminds me of a scary movie I used to watch, with a psycho puppet.)
You need to be saved. But you have to save yourself. And I am only allowed to sit and watch whatever the outcome is.
After a while, it's seems as if you aren't even trying to get out anymore. As if you want to sink. But I can't believe this is true. I refuse to believe you won't get out of this.
But time flies by. And I've lost track of the days I've been sitting on the edge, with the vehicle behind me, prepared to drive away with you when you've finally escaped. The door handle has rusted, and perhaps the car battery doesn't even work anymore. I wonder if we will ever find out. If we will ever leave this barren desert. I wonder how many more days until we die. How many more days before a poor traveler comes across two skeletons; one leaning against the frame of an old truck and the other with one hand resting on a stick.
~SMC~
YOU ARE READING
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PuisiA poem book with original poems written by me. Covers a variety of different topics as it is a representation of life as I live and experience it. [Poems that aren't mine will credit the original author] //tw//: self harm, depression, suicidal tho...
