Post It Note

Post it notes, torn yellowed edges

worn old photos lost their memories

Now just pictures of people and places

can’t quite place the faces

just images in a dream

under the waters of a steady stream

they ripple in front of me

they distort and morph, blending into obscurity

 

Frayed edges say stay out 

stray thoughts fizzle into doubt

Locked in as a world passed me by

now I’m living in a time that is not mine

So close to breaking

Can feel the bonds straining

cracking against the weight

pulling me right back to face my fate

Close to snapping

I hear bony fingers tap, tap, tapping

can feel the worn edges

lost in a maze of thorny hedges and high ledges

My mind an elastic band pulled tight, beginning to fray 

The smallest Knick will split its threads, I live day by day

Like a rope - threads wearing thin

worn against a sharpened knifes edge

the strands starting to stretch

unless it is mended and returned to its prime  

the weight will snap it, leaving me alone in time

So close to collapse like a building with no support

The foundations flawed, the walls distort

The ground unsteady, in a quake zone

The building standing too tall, too prone

So close to dropping, feel like running

like a tap on full flow, I feel the drain pulling

Somewhere no-one can find me

just me and my friend solitary

So close to the edge

at the summit but the rain is pummelling

I feel one step would send me plummeting

So, I step back, hide away for a while

Digest the setbacks, try to regain my smile

Thanks For Reading

Peace And Love

Kyle.