Save Me

I stood


in the middle of the street

Deep, resistant, bare

waiting for someone rescue me.

To reach out from blackness

Revealing a hand to save me

from my own indignation

and as I stood, I feel weak

So I sat

in the middle of the street

Cold, lost, moist

waiting for something to speak to me

tell me where to go

how to flee my own treacherous mind

I closed my eyes, 

floating in and out of reality

clenching and releasing what was 

- what could have been

Sitting, waiting.



For the rescue that never came.

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