4 June 2012
I feel myself slipping again
As I claw at the dirt
That lines the hungry, bottomless pit
Full of quicksand of black and hurt.
I don't want to feel their slimy hands
Their suffocating, grainy embrace,
I know once they have me there
I will never leave the place.
I had the strength once
To break my way free
But I don't think I can do it again,
I'm not the youthful girl I used to be,
The veins can be seen on my wrinkly hands
And the wrinkles round my eyes,
Carved there from the days
When I used to smile or cry.
I don't want to give up the fight,
Don't want on their mercy to depend
But as my feeble grip gets weaker
I fear this is the end.
Quicksand • Opuss № I