A Prisoner to Time

I look for a bottle, a small one.

After a lot of thought and quite some searching,

a pretty glass jar with a cork was found.

Tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand, unseen

Delicate and strong, or fragile and young,

it depends on how you see it, really.

I go to the cabinet now – holding the secrets of life

in small tiny pills, some colourful and some white.

With all my raw materials I shall now sit,

creating a potpourri of pills.

I soon hold the jar, transformed and full

Each tablet unique and with purpose.

And as I finish my project, I’m calm, finally calm

My anxieties kept busy and distracted.

It’s so easy to trick the human mind

into believing a future (the irony),

with our present actions.

I close my eyes and savour

The blank emptiness that could be mine

Before I get up and walk away,

Stepping on glass, still a prisoner to time.  

-the positivity of black

2 thoughts on “A Prisoner to Time

  1. Black and death is not positive… Thoughts are lying to you.
    Well written I must say and powerful with emotional vibes.
    I know that dark place to will but I also know it will also end. Just ride it out. It’s hard af but it can be done, I did it.
    Perpetual madness of the mind
    Loving yourself, it’s important

    💕 Where did that strength come from?

    I’m following you please follow me and comment please. I’m here if you need to talk.


    1. Thank you so much for your support, Michelle 🙂
      I just read your post about how we always look at our strength in hindsight and that’s so true!
      We have all been on the rollercoaster of pain and my way of riding it out is through writing.

      P.S. The same goes out to you as well – I’m always available if you need to talk.


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