Carnival
I'm on a ride
that never seems to stop.
There are no laughing children,
or the sound of
circus melodies
sweetening the breeze.
Only ragged breaths,
shaking shoulders,
teardrops drifting down
mascara-stained cheeks.
The sun doesn't shine
on this amusement park.
And with each round
of the vicious cycle,
filled with pain and trembling,
trembling and pain,
a part of me breaks
and slowly falls,
only to shatter into pieces
at the bottom
of my soul.
I long to see
the brilliant colors,
try to sense
the smell of popcorn
drifting on the air.
Because it hurts,
oh it hurts
to be on this bleak
little roller coaster,
this loop-de-loop
of suffering.
But I'm stuck
on a painted horse,
spinning round and round,
unable to escape
the crumpled mess
that is my self.
Without hope.
Waiting, always waiting,
for the ride to stop,
for my park to close.
For me to walk
out of that iron gate,
out into the light,
and finally go home.
Peace, love, and happiness
-Becca
