Written by Virginia Betts
This other me
awaits recovery;
FREE RESCUE
from the cold, hard shoulder;
hoping for discovery.
This other me
Is the long, thin,
foetal twin
who crawls beneath my skin,
underneath my sleep,
grabbing hands and feet
which stray outside the cover,
dragging at my dreams
like a toxic lover.
This other me,
the one you never see,
is one who never fails
to trick reality;
is one adept
at undermining gravity
to walk the line
between fixed points of sanity.
And I am tired
so tired,
I’m gone;
I’m done.
I’ll pack my bags,
And go back to the sun.
Text © Virginia Betts
*
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