On Getting Stuck.

For some reason,
you are the web
that keeps ensnaring my
stumbling step.
You don’t mean it–
you never have
and you never will.
But nonetheless,
I’m stuck–
and you’re the only one to blame.
I’ve struggled and shrugged,
trying to rid myself of you.
If only it was that easy.
If only I could just reopen my eyes,
wipe the sleep from my heavy lids,
and be free of the wretched spell you’ve cast.
It seems,
from my perspective,
that it’s far more than physical.
I’m tongue-tied and tethered,
brain-bound and gagged,
knotted and secured
by a worn strip of nylon,
running from my head to my heart.
Shackles slow steps steadily,
leaving my legs lethargic
and strides uneven;
every movement dragging me closer and closer
to the earthy path which I sluggishly traverse.
I’m a hostage in my own body,
hijacked by an unseen assailant.
I’m a raving lunatic in a straightjacket,
waiting to be thrown in the psych ward.
All because of you.
As I sit here,
waiting to be wheeled away,
all I can do is laugh and shake my head.
Here I am again,
stuck between your love and a hard place.

**Image: “Spider Web” by Haxonite


10 thoughts on “On Getting Stuck.

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