THE CHILLING HOW BY FIONA CUMMINGS

THE CHILLING HOW

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 

There is a chill in the air

A tear when I stare

A pain in my heart

I’m as though a horse pulling a cart

Fear through my veins

My legs are lame

Telling me to move is my brain

Keeping me from doing so is a chain

Though it is metaphorical

Feelings so historical

Some would say comical

 Others diabolical

Depending on views

As nothing shocks now on the news

Someone’s thrills

Is another person’s blues

One would drowned

Whilst the rest have a cruise

Breathless

Careless

Perspiring

Rewiring

Electros sting

My patients wear thin

A kick to the stomach

A punch until I vomit

Blood runs forming a pool

How much longer can I play the fool?

I have to escape

Release all this hate

Close that gate

And open a safe door

Pick myself up from the floor

Hold my head up high

Don’t look back

Or ask why

One step forward

There will be an award

No more hurting inside

Dry will become of the tears I have cried

I won’t hide away

No matter what you say

I have come to the realisation

For my own salvation

 I have to do this on my own

No one to phone

No help at hand

Just me in this enormous land

I can do this

I know I can

I have had a kiss

And to hold onto a hand

My angel is watching me

Is telling me to run free

I know I can

Just let me stand

Then one foot in front of the other

No time to wait

No way can I hover

This won’t be handed to me on a plate

It’s never too late

It’s my journey now

But hang on a minute

How?

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015

Written for a friend.