Ringling Brothers
Surround me.
An Idola, who deserves the persecution that comes with
the eyes of a hungry audience.
The Lion greedily roars, depraved in hunger and gifted with I, the sacrafice.
Big Top mentality, the bigger the crowd the thirstier for bile, that drips into the cotton candy machine.
I have crossed my eyes with x's, until I could be accused of a clown's facade.
I've
Decided
My
Fate.
I deserve this, with the roar of the spectators as above me the acrobats dance their ballerina performance.
Brava!
Brava!
Aha!
I can hear the Calliope roll through the circle
Spinning in a sort of
Tootle-Toot song.
Unfitting for such a scene, however I do not deserve an orchestra.
Sinful Idol of a society's circus that breaks my breath with the crushing rope gasp of the lion's jaw that hangs me from the tight rope.
Feet dangling.
<Deleted User> (13762)
Sat 29th Jul 2017 09:49
thanks for taking the time to reply Connor - it's always good to hear some background. I don't know why but I think a lot of people think about suicide but thankfully very few actually carry it through.
Perhaps when we are low and our thoughts reach that point we come across some sort of psychological barrier we instinctively will not cross. So there is no choice but to retreat and to retreat is to find a better place once more. It certainly seems to be the way my brain works on occasion - I go there, I come back. I go there, I come back. Such a strange game.
Enjoyed your reading btw. Look forward to your next offering. Take it easy - have a nice weekend. Col.