Today’s NaPoWriMo entry is a little different. Before you send me any hotline links, allow me to clarify. The inspiration for this comes from people I’ve known and films such as “The Aviator” wherein you observe the slow, inevitable disintegration of the person. That is what I set out to capture in this piece.

Enjoy.

The Note

There’s a shadow I see moving
From the corner of my eye.
I turn so quick I hurt my neck
Can’t see it if I try.

It isn’t there for very long
Just waits for me to see
Now all my friends think I’ve gone strange
They won’t be seen with me.

More often now it waits for me
Just where I cannot see.
I talk to it and beg sometimes
And people stare at me.

They cannot see don’t understand
I don’t care what they think.
They talk and laugh and place their bets
On just how far I’ll sink.

It’s talking now this shadow thing
From just behind my head.
It’s telling me to see it true
It seems I must be dead.

I know they’ll talk I know they’ll judge
But I no longer fear
The shadow talks much louder now
It’s all that I can hear.

They’ll say “How sad. He must be mad.”
He took his life in vain.
But they don’t see and they can’t hear
Can’t understand my pain.

They give me pills and talk to me
They think they broke the spell.
But it’s too late I see it now
My own and private hell.

So bring the rope and bring the blade
The pills are standing by.
I’ve written this so you can know
I’m free now do not cry.

Cheers, Winston