SCHIZOPHRENIA; THE SECOND WOMAN IS NEW.

“I promise I’ll be there”
Words with empty meaning
Words screaming through the halls of my mind as they make course
I know she lies
I know I won’t see her till the echo’s heard
Till the message smacks the back of the wall
Not the wall of innocence though
Can one echo pass through two circles at once?
I wait
No answer.

Not but smiles and scraped knees each time we meet
“I’ve been in the wars” She would say
“Been fighting for six”
The war, till yesterday, was the most promising part
Perhaps beautiful
Late. But time didn’t matter
Time is on our wrist, was all
Hope. Chance. Fresh faces
Six children sprung from her passion
Other smiles, scraped knees
The race continued
But she was always taller, always faster

That’s when the screaming began
‘Twas only a whisper first
Then two worlds colliding in one body
It can’t cope
It won’t cope
Somersaulted mind
Can one echo pass through two circles at once?
Hope becomes fear, chance is unwanted
And fresh faces become sour
Now the second woman is new

Her scraped knees and smile are aging
“The war” is the worst part
My mouth is slower to turn
It is wiser, more hesitant
The six of us want to be flying
But “the war” won’t let her soar with us
The sky is still ours, hopefully.

Frayed heart
Somersaulted mind
Split in two or three
But she still promises she’ll be there
Is it the second woman who speaks?
I wait
No answer.

Love,
Ida-Sharon.

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