Tonight I feel as if the scales are balanced,
I'm not swimming in the ghostly tears of my sadness,
But I'm not dancing in the sunlight of happiness.
After all, what is happiness?
It is almost unnerving,
To feel one half of your mind and soul
Tip-toeing on the edge of a cliff
While the other half is trying to anchor itself
To the centre of the Earth because it doesn't want to leave,
It is an unsettling feeling.
I also feel like there are so many loose ends that need to be tied,
Unfinished business if you will.
I have the urge to pick up a book that triggers me
As if it is my destiny to savour the closing line on the last page
And feel like I have succeeded,
To send a message to every single person who has done me wrong
And has thrown me about like rag doll just to apologise
"Sorry for being such an easy target for you all."
My poetry has become an epistolary,
A series of decaying thoughts that have been woven into words,
Some to purge my dark intentions,
Others to hold on to that small sliver of happiness
Like a balloon tied to your wrist to stop it from floating away.
I hope to keep this balance long enough to pick up the pieces of my derailed being,
**Then it can tip either way and I'll be content.