The breaking point
It feels like tiny heads spinning around in my head,
around and around and around.
And around again in a circle
threehundredandfiftyfuckingseven miles an hour.
Like popcorn the tiny heads pop a long to a beat,
a beat that is stronger than your own heartbeat
or is it my heartbeat.
The hammer blow beat is like warmcold shivers
down my ribs to my hips.
In despair my sleepy legs are aching for some rest
tumble down to the ground and
(I think I might be dying)
any second now.
Once again I jammed my head
too many times into the wall.
I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Tiniest push and I'm drowning,
next downfall might be my last.
How many times can I save myself
because of the fear to ask for help.
I promised myself to take care of you
oh how it got hard when I no longer can take care of myself.
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