Vices, circling tighter.
I have slid back into them like a hand into a dish glove,
Only to find lingering soapy water in the fingers.
They don’t do what I want them to do,
Don’t relieve my misery as I had hoped.
And I burn burn burn like a circle of hell,
While trapped in my own ring of fire.
I think about you.
But that’s not enough either.
What is?
The chains get a better hold of me.
I take a deep breath
and let myself be pulled under.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 2:39 AM UTC
Vices, circling tighter.
I have slid back into them like a hand into a dish glove,
Only to find lingering soapy water in the fingers.
They don’t do what I want them to do,
Don’t relieve my misery as I had hoped.
And I burn burn burn like a circle of hell,
While trapped in my own ring of fire.
I think about you.
But that’s not enough either.
What is?
The chains get a better hold of me.
I take a deep breath
and let myself be pulled under.
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