by Julie Bihn
Sturdy, splendid, pleasing to the eye.
Holding so many cheerful, familiar images.
Stepping stone to lean on, to support me, to desperately grasp
Instead of struggling to move with my own strength.
Precious memory, sustainer
Something to keep me alive through the ages.
Delicate, unfeeling false idol
Susceptible, yet worshiped as a god.
Helping me to obtain that which was previously inaccessible.
Helping me to take without asking or giving in return.
And agreeable assistant, servant.
Controlling my life under the guise of partnership.
My eyes, ears, mouth.
Source and maintainer of friendships.
Blocking me from the outside world and its people
Trapping me inside a fantasy land others have created.
Allowing me to communicate my thoughts
And to learn what others think.
Dragging me down into an imaginary universe
That can be ripped apart at the mere crash of a tree.
Keeping me from loneliness,
Keeping me occupied in times of boredom.
Eating up my time,
Helping me to waste the life which was given to me.
My false idol.
My beautiful crutch.
Copyright Julie Bihn 1998
Please do not modify or duplicate without my permission.
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