On Occam's Edge

There was a madness about her

it ate at her days and affected in ways

that very few saw and even fewer knew.

She hid it well, the only ‘tell’

the occasional tear. She didn’t yell

or scream. She kept it under wraps.

When the constant ringing got too loud

she’d escape.  Some would wonder

where she’d been. Oh, they’d see her now and then.

Her pleasant smile would lure them in,

and they’d believe that all was well.

And for a time, she might too.

But sadness is a bitch, it seems...

it sneaks its way through lock and key

and ever lurks inside our dreams.

It lies of its identity,

and the nearest I can tell

is that it does it very well.

And so she walks the Occam’s edge

through never-ending test and trial

and hides behind her practiced smile

And only those who know her well

understand where she has been,

how every day she starts again;

and of the strength it takes to quell;

how tentative the balance is

between her sanity and hell.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023