It’s happened.
I’m there.
This pit is not bottomless.
Here,
raw fingers scrabbling at the bare ground,
my despair has brought me.
Wrapped in harsh darkness,
mind and body
bound
and broken
as I fell
from false hope.
My fragile grip
slipped.
The light was lost,
receding in the tunnel
far above this prison well.
Escape plan:
Lie still, stay quiet.
Give in to the tightening bands.
Loosening muscle, shrink
so to crawl out one day.
saying, “Shhh!
It happens.”
Janice Windle
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/journey-inwards-collection-at-the-bottom/
