Humpty Dumpty

 

Humpty dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty dumpty had a great fall.

Panic.

It takes hold.

The wall.

Evading her grasp.

Floating higher, farther away.

“Come back!”, she screams.

But no one hears her.

Did she say it out loud to begin with?

Stupid girl.

Everyone knew her worth, her value, lied completely with the wall.

But she fell.

How pathetic.

And here she was: falling.

She struggled, uselessly.

Back to the wall was all she wanted.

But which way was up?

Which way was down?

She no longer knew.

Did the wolf finally eat her?

Did she get lost in the woods?

Could someone please tell her?

A clue?

A hint?

Anything.

It’s scary.

It’s frightening.

It’s petrifying.

Please.

Please.

PLEASE.

“Make it stop!”, she begs.

But no one hears her.

Her words are no longer important.

They’re all watching, staring.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men.

Didn’t they know that Humpty couldn’t be put back together again?

She begs to reach the ground.

It no longer matters if it’s the end.

As long as it stops.

Anything to make it stop.

ANYTHINGMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPPLEASEPLEASEMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOP

MAKE. IT. STOP.       

Warmth. Big hands. Warm hands. The end?

Brightness. The sun? No.

Eyes. Bluer than the sky. 

They whisper gently.

Heard? Without the wall?

Impossible, surely.

Impossible!

Yet,

Yet,

There she was.

Inches above the ground.

In one piece.

In big hands, warm hands.

Blue eyes. Bluer than the sky.

Was she still, somehow,

Important?

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741