Autonomy

Autonomy is the Jester’s worst fear

He will twirl and dance however his strings tell him to,

Withstand every harsh tug and pull at his scalp,

But as soon as his strings are cut,

As soon as he is set free,

He will gather all the little snippets and desperately attempt to tie himself back to his cross brace,

Begging someone to help him,

“I can’t perform on my own,” he cries,

“My limbs won’t move, I cannot speak funny words when my tongue feels like lead in my mouth,”

But no one attempts to help the poor Jester,

They simply watch with muted pity as he struggles like a fish out of water.