Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry, Uncategorized

High to the Low

The high tells the low,

“Get up, idiot”

The low responds,

“I cannot. I am worthless”

The high calls bullshit and says,

“You’ll feel better if you go shopping”

The low gets up and feels better

for a day or so, then falls back down.

The high only laughs,

cycles the skies,

“Watch me fly, loser”

And the low watches out the window,

knowing the crash

always stops the laughter.

The low knows the blows,

the tears, the fears,

while the high only knows

the take off, not the landing.

Hands the spiral of the crash

to the spine of the low

like a cruel trick

and walks away smiling.

It’s always lying,

spinning as it does

like a maniac,

tasting danger and loving it.

The low holds the pieces,

bears the pain, takes the gutting,

feels every sharp edge,

while the high is out shopping,

fucking strangers,

sky diving from

invisible planes

just before they crash,

knowing the low will clean

the wreckage.

-Stephanie Bennett-Henry


3 thoughts on “High to the Low”

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