Just another manic dancer,
waking from your fevered hell;
Collapsed by waste
and sheer exhaustion,
tangled in your painted veil.
Weighted by your fears and phantoms-
a dingy caught without its sails,
far from shore u drift forgotten-
Many hands have reached to find you
(bromides bleed as if on cue)
Sage advice brings vagrant answers,
and senseless screams.
Though your wounds remain your prison-
they alone can set you free.
***dedicated to my brother Tim whom I love so much and who has a long, difficult road to travel-but, with Goddess grace and our help, he’ll be on his feet again soon..🙏🏼👸🏼👼🏼