It is slowing down.
The letters, the words,
only now a trickle.
A sign of change.
Healing, optimism? Or the opposite:
This….this is my life.
This is my life?
Someone, oh someone pick me up!
Bathe and clothe and nurture me.
Point the way, or better yet, take me there.
Oh, someone please pick me up!
(I scream into the Abyss and only I can hear).
I have shed a million tears. And I am still right here.
I only move if you push me.
I will shed a million more. Fill this room to overflowing.
And I will not swim.
And I will sink.
And I will be right here.