I wake up crying, not knowing why
The rest of the day feels as if I am walking on water
The shallow end of a pool, waiting to drown
The way ahead is never clear
Someone is trying to pull me through the fog
The ground beneath my feet, unsteady
The weight of my heart pressing against my ribs
I am given a bizarre message
by the entry to the Tubes station
A piece of paper pressed into my hand
By a man who vanished before I can speak
It read; your soul is taken.
If you want it back, you must bid for it
I doubt the concept of a soul
Besides, where would I bid for it, eBay?
How much should I offer for something
That supposedly belongs to me.
Turning the paper over, reading on
You have spent too much time without it
Don’t let your life become a car crash
Find your missing part
to stop the tears each morning…
©AnitaDawes
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