Last String

The puppet master controls my strings.
Strings I was once able to control myself.
Dancing and jumping across the floor.
She sends me evil grins now and then, to ensure I’m powerless.

These strings are part of me, they are mine.
My sanity is instilled within them.
I have given them away, but to someone I know.

I hang on the wall right where she left me.
Staring up I see her face, her grin burned into place.
I feel a part of me shred away, another, and another.
With each cut her smile grows wider and my mind grows weaker.

She hands me a knife, giggles slightly then walks away.
I dangle alone in the dark with just the cold metal of the knife to comfort me.
One string remains, all it would take is for me to cut it and
I would remember nothing, feel nothing, be nothing.
I reach up and place the knife on the string.

No cares in the world, no worries on my shoulders, no regrets.
Lying on the floor looking up at what has condemned me day by day.
From here it doesn’t look so bad.
Missing what I could have prevented, I take my last breath.