Third Floor

This world of pain exists
and these are my demons that tease and ease me along.
fists beat,
knuckles break
and i cannot fathom how far this crack will run.

My ankles buckle,
but cease to give.
A broken marionette suspended by worn out strings.
I will cut the cords that bind these
hollow hells to fall.

The subtle yet persistent hope seeps in
and fills my bones.
I pray you catch me.