Games Poem by Amanda Saveley

Tragedy leaks from silent liquid dispensers
Ragged sobs held within from years of practice
Repetitions of self-proclaimed happiness are no longer necessary

I'm miserable.
You don't know it.
But that's how it is.

I'm good at faking.

Always the one to speak up at injustice,
Regardless of my own thoughts
I slid the door shut on my own humanity

Life sucks.
But we all must deal.

So I deal with pain like the hand I was dealt,
Chasing cards into the deck like madness through minds
Setting ablaze everything that reminds me of things
I'd rather not remember
It wasn't really my fault...
But that's life, right?

That's the way the game is played...
Right?

Of course.
Because I didn't get to pick my pawn
I closed my eyes and held out my hand
As the heavy burden of the piece was weighed
And slid down into my palm
A lovely enterprise, I think

So I rolled the dice and spun the dial
Waiting for some kind of lucky card to bail me out
But the endless succession of bad luck seemed to follow me everywhere

So I started this fire,
Setting to ruin all that reminded me of the games played before
The endless comradery that is no longer of service

I'm little more than a plague to myself
A disease,
Threatening to eat up every last bit of humanity

Until nothing is left
But a shadow

A shadow of what I once was and may never be again
A shadow of what was once both sincere and an illusion
What was broken and mended
And broken again
Until there was nothing left
No adhesive
To possibly put my pawn
Together again