Ropes

I’m trapped I’m trapped I’m trapped I’m trapped I am –

Trapped.

It’s been the same rope for years

But I cannot cut it off because

In a strange way it is comfort.

What if I cut it off, free myself, run away

Only to find out I am trapped by another, longer, heavier rope?

What if I find this out by falling flat on my face?

I cannot let that happen.

I can’t, because if I take that face off, what is left?

Nothing.

I cannot maintain eye contact because if you look into my eyes for too long

You will see right through me

And you will find

Nothing.

I am not trapped,

I am held back.

And when I look behind me to rip myself free

I see only my own reflection.