the simplicity of being
Simplicity drips into this chasm of life
easy and uncomplicated
yet shot up with niggling anxiety
that sanity never lasts,
and the insecurities
that rendered me a crazy bitch
will crash over me like a tsunami, again.
The gun I sometimes like to play with
rusty from disuse, whispers to me
from beyond the sunlight
washing the grime from the windows,
the wall between me and you
all but invisible now.
Itís so easy to run,
so easy to pretend
Iím not a weapon
and that I donít know how to use one.
And as I watch the simplicity drip
I flick the last of my unused lighters
and light my fears on fire,
remembering the one thing I forgot.
Iím not a weapon.
The mantra in my head Ė
© Indie Adams 2012