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Death’s Duet (lament for the addict)

the dance is waiting

instrument picks up instrument

the waltz begins

one two three,

one … two… it’s the same every day

the violin plays but the music is scarred.

some days I am not the one

who holds this heavy bow.

the music will not be rushed

he knows time is on his side.

the smallest opening,

he slips inside, tears me from within

exposing bones,

plucking tendons

a maestro of madness settled on his strings


to play his way with me.

sound changes

like tarantulas crawling

on a skeleton thin glass table

tic tic tick… tic tic tick

this is not the music I first heard.

he and I continue

this sickly death’s duet

but arms so worn from playing

tired of tired out notes

I have no strain left in me and feel

the opening close

too late.

the music has been written

the very last note drawn

a lonely string plucked one last time this waltz

is over

by colleen hannah

I have lived a life of differences, each one leading me to where I am today. One of those differences, one sometimes I would like to forget, is depicted here. I have learned so much from my journey though and each step taken, whether off the track  or not has brought me to the people who love me for who I am. I could not be more grateful. I know though, as I say in one of the lines in my poem that sometimes we learn too late. I am just so very happy that I was able to finish the duet before the music ended.

About vancouverislandpsychosis

I am just an island girl, literally and at heart. The ocean's edge is where I find what I lost during the year, usually that is my brain. I am a fan of laughter and anyone who can laugh at his or herself. I myself need laughter to live, and of course a beach nearby.

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