Rubber bands wrap my body
The tan pseudo-office-supplies
Run in lines akin to guitar strings.
They’re both slippery and stiff,
And they pull in their surroundings
Holding them close like rubber bands do.
They are the reason I’m still whole.
Constricting around my body and mind,
Keeping everything together.
But when they begin to fail at that job
And thus threatening I fall to pieces,
I simply add some more,
To reinforce the wrapping’s reliability.