I am finally broken - a straw for a camel's back
Pokes my shoulder blades, tracing across the hump.
I can sense how my bones get disjointed and start to crack,
While my blood's turning purple and seeping from lips and gums.
I have strolled through the woods but experienced no wish to stay,
Would have lived in a grotto, but somehow was never asked.
I was cursed to be born on a shivering groundhog day,
To be courting the Trickster that shifts through his facial masks.
May a wave float my tears like amber with every tide,
When a destiny's woven, it's pointless to fight and rage.
Happy endings occur when characters fade and die
While the author grows frozen and solid, steps off the page.
The straw
© Copyright: Кристина Девулите, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124011402411
Свидетельство о публикации №124011402411
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