Histrionic paper weights,
Weigh me down;
Down-- down.
Off the shore of pestilence,
The little daughter, wandering;
Still screaming, ever so softly-- "Save me",
Only mortal sins go wasted on the melancholy.
Beneath my footfalls,
A beacon, effervescent,
Masquerades for sanity's door,
Anomy takes hold,
Unreproached for decades.
Mother, where have thy been?
The black, the white,
The monochrome that leads me closer,
Fall-- falling.
Beneath the depths of civility,
I plead for deliverance,
Only the devils word reigns.
If I'm on the border, than where is the line?
Lost somewhere between the middle,
Or second pole.
A polar opposite of my "good" intentions.
Are these my thoughts-- drowning?
Pull it back,
One,
Two,
Three pills, down the hatch,
Safely nestled along my digestive tract.
But I still feel nothing;
Until the wave comes.
Deep-- deeper still.
A flash, like ignited gun powder.
I crumble,
Down-- down,
The black, the white,
The border is too far from the line.
©Ashley Leslie 2013
