《Wading Through The Dark》But Yet, I Run
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I'm trapped in my head, locked within myself without a door or window to escape from. Trapped like a crow in a birdcage made of thorns, trapped like a fly in a razor-sharp spider's web, my body bleeding from the wombs. I'm trapped here but I'm not alone, they follow me like shadows under the burning sun- chasing me down corridors of my thoughts and flights of memories I can't forget. They never give up, and still, I'm trapped.
There is a key if only I could reach it. It dangles off the side of a cliff, hanging so patronizingly close that I could reach it if only I had the will to jump. But if I did I would fall, fall down a rabbit hole of darkness and I don't think I would ever hit the bottom. But yet, I would have the key, a victory among the pit of my failings.
I want to get out, run free like deer in the forest. Away from my cage, away from my spider's web. But they won't stop chasing, like dogs with a bone thrown by my misgivings and lies. They won't stop, so I run. But still I am trapped, I run but I am trapped. If only I had some way out, some way to break free of my bindings but no, there is no knife to cut my way out. No hammers to break these walls. No shovel to dig with. Just me, alone.
They're nothing but figures of my past haunting me as I run. Distant echoes reflect memories of awful times and bad choices from long ago. How I wish I could face them, how I wish I could turn and stop them with a mere glance. But no, if I look I fear they may kill me, so I run.
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My feet grow tired the more steps I take, my legs ache like burning coal. My heart beats out my ears onto the floor, but I won't stop- though my lungs can't take it. I breathe heavily, but yet I can't breathe at all. My eyes are wax, and my feet are full of sores. I pass fields of flowers twisting into blankness and playgrounds weaving in and out of my blood-red hatred, but I do not stop and stare. There is no noise as I run, silence is a prison and God hath no pity.
Faster and faster, slower and slower, quicker and quicker, I run. I am going in circles, my head's a maze. I'm looking, feeling, searching for a way out, but there is none. This place is a prison I can't escape from, but yet I run.
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