• praxis
    6.5k
    We live another complication everyday,
    Adding another thread to bind us.

    It's been so long...
    Can't move my wings, my limbs--
    How did I get stuck?

    Did I do this to myself?
    The *puppeteer is pulling too hard!
    I want to move,
    But I can't
    I'm twisted up,
    The thread is too tight;
    I can feel the dread of suffocation on the horizon.
    I'm trying, I'm fighting,
    I want to be free!
    But I can't move anymore...

    The thread won't let me,
    The strings are being pulled too tight--
    My prison, it cuts into my skin,
    I can barely breathe enough to live on...
    I want this suffering to end!

    Aah! Yes...
    I remember now,
    I took the thread of my own free will!

    It started that day...
    When I heard them speak,
    I did as they asked,
    And the thread wound around me.

    I didn't ask for answers and didn't speak of my questions;
    I kept on going where their path lead,
    And I ended up here:
    Suffocated, stranded, in naïve ignorance.

    Even though the puppeteer wants me to move,
    Even though I can feel his anxiety to help;
    He can't do a thing.

    The thread has been wound too tight,
    *If the thread won't snap soon,
    I will.

    ~Shruti Atri
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