She sits quietly at the bottom
It doesn’t occur to her to crawl back up
and so there’s no dirt under her nails
I reach the edge and look down
It’s a short way down and a long way up
so I throw down a rope for her
She’s slowly sinking into the mud
That her tears have slowly caused
now that she’s drifted out of her shock
She yells that she needs to get out
Screams that I’m blocking out her light
and to move away from her – now
Against better judgement I walk away
I attempt to forget the fact
that I’ve brought the rope back with me
She keeps on crying
Now she earns dirt under her nails
trying to find the rope that’s disappeared
Slowly she starts to understand
That in her left frame of mind
she pushed away her help
She watches the sun at the top of the hole
She’s thinking of the rope again
as the right frame of mind comes back into view
I come to her call
I throw down the razor instead of the rope
The left frame of mind became too strong for her