Marionette

When the sun gives way to the moon

And its curve that I long to fall asleep in

I surrender myself to the puppeteer pulling at my heartstrings

Letting my limbs slacken and drop to my sides

A defeated soldier of the play that is my life

This never ending battle that I did not sign up to fight

Like a marionette that has been left in the corner

To fight off the monsters that live in the abysmal darkness

Or maybe I’m more like a windup toy that’s reached the end of its rope

Locked in a tug-of-war with death and its bony hands fused to the other end

And then come crashing down to the ground in a thousand irreparable pieces

That no amount of stitches could ever glue back together

As the curtains fall, cloaking me in velvet the color of the blood rushing through my veins

And the moon rises to rest in the starry sky like a beacon of hope

I find the strength in my arms to push me back up and in my legs to carry me forward

Shedding the strings that bind me to fate and beginning to write my own destiny

Where I win my wars even though I make countless mistakes

But rise and stand tall above the foray in confident autonomy

With a sword made of strength and a shield made of grace

Because I am the architect of my own life and will always be