Forbidden Dancing

She is running fast, so fast,
Her steps distraught, flustered and petrified.
The teeming rain is piercing her bare arms,
Inundating her fatigued body;
Her clothes soggy and her shoes muddy.
She is looking just ahead, nowhere but ahead;
Refusing to wait one more second,
To rethink about what she’s doing,
What the consequences of her actions will be
On those she loves but is tired of loving.
She hurries, faster and faster before it happens,
But she can’t help it: the pictures are flashing in.
She sees them laughing, having a good time,
And she’s amongst them.
She sees them talking about all
(content by what they’ve achieved and become),
…Talking and talking and talking;
Such a polite clutter, such a decent vomit of nothingness.
And she’s amongst them.
Repeated words, trite ideas, exhausted laughter…
And an appalling satisfaction, a habitual life.
She sees their virtue, their innocent righteousness,
Digging her grave.
She sees their love and care pushing her inside it.
Then she sees her soul, her own considerate self,
With a sorry smirk,
Covering her up with thick muck.
She sees herself drowned in darkness,
Surrounded in dirt,
Eating it so unwillingly, shoved into her thirsty mouth.
She makes little effort to get loose,
To escape from everyone she knows, loves or respects,
And go far away into a world of indifference and vice.
She wants to get out onto the ground and dance on every grave.
She wants to dance on every rock and in every tree.
But again, she sees herself doing nothing but chewing on dirt.
She can’t breath, but she stays still in her coffin,
Hurt in agony and suffocation.
There is only stillness, quietness and dirt;
But she doesn’t mind the dirt.
She continues running but then, suddenly, she stops.
She hears a voice calling her; she knows it, she loves it.
She looks back, turns around, and starts running.
She reaches her grave but it needs repair.
She picks up a shovel, removes a bit of dirt,
She then smiles tenderly to everybody and throws herself in.
She is there now, still chewing dirt…
And dreaming of dancing on every grave, on every rock and in every tree.