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Jun 2014
I awaken to see myself holding onto a rope,
the moment of fear passes as I remember this is all I've ever known.
The surroundings are the same, a circular shaft with a floor that can't be seen.
There are always voices beckoning me to let go,
They assure me that they'll help me with the fall.
But how can I know?
This rope and these walls are the only thing I've ever known.
These voices drive me mad and eventually I fall back to sleep.
Even sleep does not bring respite.
The back of my eyelids are movie screens repeating the same video of falling over and over again.
I awaken once again and find the rope is barbed wire.
Once again the voices tell me to let go, and assure me of my safety.
But how can I know?
This rope and these walls are the only thing I've ever known.
If I let go, how long is the fall?
What's at the bottom?
Is there a bottom?
Will these voices help me?
Are my hands calloused?
How deep do the cuts go?
Will I be able to use them again?
The fear of the unknown leaves me clinging to what I've always known.
Michael Tobin
Written by
Michael Tobin  Twin Cities, Minnesota
(Twin Cities, Minnesota)   
295
 
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