Letters and Diary Poetry posted September 8, 2013 Chapters:  ...51 52 -53- 54... 

This work has reached the exceptional level
stuck in a life and a relationship

A chapter in the book To Cherish Thorns

Paper Dolls

by michaelcahill

I'm riding a smoke ring
          walking in a circle
                       even as the circle wavers
                                             and starts to vanish
           but, it doesn't vanish entirely
           for I'm still riding
           still in a circle of sorts

I'm looking for a hole
to silently slip through
           my absence unnoticed
           my presence unmissed
leaving a faint smell of tabacco
on the cold blankets
where I once drempt

I'm looking for the smallest crevice
where I might turn sideways
and squeeze through
one finger at a time
            I find a slight line
            in a forgotten corner
                  I recall it with a vague remembrance
                  having drawn it myself
            it is the line between
           captivation and captivity
  I know I should've drawn the line in the sand
          but, at the time a solid wall
          didn't seem such an obstacle
 but, perception seems to sleep
 when you have a real need to perceive

I always seem to follow toy soldiers
even though I've always preferred paper dolls

I reluctantly fall into an uneasy sleep
laying uncomfortably on an uneven bed of smoke

 I dream of doors
 with handles
 that turn
            I dream of windows
            with latches
            that rise with a touch
                   I dream of a child
                   running in a circle  
                   for no reason
  I dream of myself
  running in a circle
  with no purpose   

I awake choking
in a smoke filled room
with no escape
without the caress of ignorance

I curse the architect
that builds a room
designed for captivity

I curse the light
in my eyes
and its mocking clarity

        I curse....

 even as I blow a smoke ring
 around your throat
 and dance on it



A frustrating time in my life. a feeling of being trapped in every way and every aspect of my life with no way out. feeling contempt for the world and myself with nothing to do but write about it.
This is actually a song.

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