THE PUPPET SERIES
The Puppet — 1
The first poem from The Puppet, a poetry series, a take on relationships that drown out one’s voice and identity
The end of the strings are in your hands, the moves, your thoughts; but mistakes, the glitches in my making’s process. If I smile, it’s your right pull, if I grimace, it is because you lost the string’s end.
The pulls are painful — yes, but I don’t have a say, do I? The fears are locked in my wooden heart; and they don’t exist to you as long as they don’t resonate through the walls; still… I shall comply…
I shall relent without lament to the woodenness of me — perhaps it’s easier to be just that — a wooden puppet, caught in fire rather than be alive and not exist… Perhaps, it’s easier to realize that I don’t have a life anyway…
© Sana Rose 2020 Written on July 2, 2013
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Sana Rose is an award-nominated novelist, poet, physician, counseling professional and freelance writer based in Kerala, India. Connect with her on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook.
