The Puppet – 2

I wallow in the air,
Swallow some in despair –
And get choked by
The same air I breathe.
What pulsates through me
Is no more fluid –
Carrying the solid,
My veins stand out with
Frozen blood that melts not…

Floating beyond all
Human ponders, I fall,
And hang suspended
From the same hands
That dropped me to play…
I lose my precious grip,
Without a ground to slip
Beneath my feet; otherwise
I could have at least gotten up

© Sana Rose 2013

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