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0 <i>Written on July 3rd, 2013</i></p><h2 id="124d">Read the prequel:</h2><div id="c10d" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-puppet-1-17bc16657b56"> <div> <div> <h2>The Puppet — 1</h2> <div><h3>The first poem from The Puppet series, a take on relationships that drown out one’s voice and identity</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*L1QGdGX02z1dWBVzchI1lA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><h2 id="13a7">The sequel:</h2><div id="aa6b" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-puppet-3-4575de951a33"> <div> <div> <h2>The Puppet - 3</h2> <div><h3>Poem #3 from The Puppet series, a take on relationships that drown out one’s voice and identity</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <d

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iv style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*0q1X2DC9SMpux6crNTrRLg.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><h2 id="b1b5">If you liked this, also check out:</h2><div id="79d1" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/let-her-go-77b75eaad387"> <div> <div> <h2>Let Her Go</h2> <div><h3>A Poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*0ImNG9sPcYZNG0D7)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="b102"><a href="http://www.sanarose.com"><b>Sana Rose</b></a> is an award-nominated novelist, poet, physician, counseling professional and freelance writer based in Kerala, India. Connect with her on <a href="http://instagram.com/sanahrose">Instagram</a>, <a href="http://twitter.com/sanahrose">Twitter </a>and <a href="http://facebook.com/SanaRoseOfficial">Facebook</a>.</p></article></body>

THE PUPPET SERIES

The Puppet — 2

On relationships that drown out one’s voice and identity

Photo by Irene Lasus from Pexels

I wallow in the air, swallow some in despair - and get choked by the same air I breathe. What pulsates through me is no more fluid — carrying the solid, my veins stand out with frozen blood that melts not…

Floating beyond all human ponders, I fall, and hang suspended from the same hands that dropped me to play…

I lose my precious grip, without a ground to slip beneath my feet; otherwise I could have at least gotten up…

© Sana Rose 2020 Written on July 3rd, 2013

Read the prequel:

The sequel:

If you liked this, also check out:

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.

Poetry
Relationships
Abusive Relationships
Voices
Freedom
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