Claws in the tires of the able-bodied;
Parasite of the able minded –
The weak feed on the strong –
There is power in numbers.
But what happens when there is no strength left to bleed
because it was strong enough to walk away?
Smart enough to hide?
Do the weak feed on each other?
Starving maggots in the dust they’ve destroyed –
If they could feed on sores they’d never go hungry.
Without one, none can follow;
The most powerful number is one.
It’s written on the walls
and the silence between calls,
The Pause before the phone rings.
That moment, suspended
between now and forever
where you can still turn back,
but should you?
You hold the key
but could you? Should you? Would you
dare to choose a future that looks nothing like your past
where each breath could be your last?
And time is ticking, fast
And not to choose is still to choose
You’ll never win chasing your own feet.
Where now and never meet forever –
that’s where growth happens.
Is this happening again?
Have I been here?
The space between seconds turns to hours turn to days
and it never seems to phase you when you turn your back on time
That’s fine –
Just wait and wonder
what could have been
if you hung up the phone before the cord wrapped around your neck,
choking tighter until you have to check the clock to see how long it’s been since you last tasted love upon your lips.
You scream and sob,
But you have chosen this.
So just before that hand can strike for you to count again,
just remember that you chose to drown but you can choose to swim.