The Ray, The Rope Poem by Shreej k.c

I know I am not supposed
to cry over spilt milk
hold on to that doesn't belong,
slips like a flick,
haunts like a bleak,
taunts like a gleek.
Yet I shed pools now and then
drench me out, dehydrate in
frail, frazzle, feeble plaint
I nearabout faint.

I know I am supposed
to keep my doors open
let the fresh air in.
Yet I close them tight
[Tight, Plight, Flight, Blight].
suffocated, I find comfort to hide
opt to hear no one else beside.

On nights like this,
darkness scares, light glares eyes
I keep them closed, rewind the ties.
[Ties, Lies, Sighs, Goodbyes]
till dream plays in, wakefulness defies
then morning casts a ray, a rope
inspires to breath again and cope.

The ray, the rope
lowers me further down the cliff
a bit away from the firm fickle grip.
[Grip, Flip, Rip, Skip]
let it drown me or bash against reef
who cares where it lands me a day
least, saves from hanging midway.