Where do I stand?

Secrets relived,
Do my final days await?
Sometimes things
That are broken
Cannot be fixed,

Dedicated to end
And new beginnings,
Am I a Phoenix
In hopeless reverse?
Deserving of things
I cannot seem to grasp,

How many times
Do I have to live
If living is all there is?
Emotions reigned
And disdained me,

Slivering with serpent
Scales and cold
Harsh touch until
I can no long feel,
Numbness floods
The being I’ve claimed,

Had I had
the normal pattern
Of functioning
Would I still
Hold the key
To self-preservation?

Sleep interrupted,
Each long night,
Tortured belongings
Slinging themselves
Into the nightly
Disconnected fragments,

Broken I stand
And broken I fall
Disrupted, fitful, intermittent,
But stand I will
Above all.
Yet, where
Is the ultimate


Poem © Phen Weston


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