Madness: same action repeated, expecting change.
But, this too is madness, same action, ever flux.
Madness meet madness. Rather than 2 negatives making a positive, divide by zero.
Surely, if madness has receded this is clear. The small, waning part of the beachhead that has stood bears witness. Is the nightmare fading, relenting or is that spark the vestige of twilight, spent and dying? The two are the same. The cusp indistinguishable. After so long, it doesn't matter. The cycle ever flows, not clockwork. Nothing gentle or predictable. Darkness shouting, claiming sanity uses the same voice as clarity's pleas.
The constant comes from fragility. Both crush, fall under featherweight of doubt, mere probing to discover which is which likewise wounds. More, self aware of failing causes added pressure. A weight shared by gaoler and prisoner alike. The difference becoming less clear. Now even hesitation and inaction are perceived as blows. The former caretaker stricken, finds no means of communicating care or even, if ever capable, compassion. Watching as every blink, touch, breath is mislaid, contorted into battle.
Worse, even with the unwelcome guest at bay, intentions are cruelly twisted by habit, blindness, apathy, weakness, exhaustion.
Numb. Fatigued. No longer able to tell if freedom is worth... freedom, wholeness, are they?
Outside cares little for petty squabble. The mouths continue to suckle on any teat, latching to whatever fills them.
This past can not escape notice. The break in clouds no longer musters hope, so often dashed with worse end. Madness meet madness.
Hope and expectations, trembling. Flinching from misuse. No relief as, with dawns break, prisoner runs free. Unwilling, unable to hie behind, still unsure of boundaries but sure of that which never worked before, a cell remains occupied.
Reproof and misunderstanding the only companions.
No comments:
Post a Comment