For most people
chains are apart of their being.
They are chained to a job
a loved one
a spouse
a child
a friend.
I have no such binds.
My chains reach inward.
violently grasping
at something to secure.
each morning when I stretch the early frost from my spine
I breathe in the cold air
and the metal knot around my stomach
constricts.
Just.
a little.
tighter.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 8:28 PM UTC
For most people
chains are apart of their being.
They are chained to a job
a loved one
a spouse
a child
a friend.
I have no such binds.
My chains reach inward.
violently grasping
at something to secure.
each morning when I stretch the early frost from my spine
I breathe in the cold air
and the metal knot around my stomach
constricts.
Just.
a little.
tighter.
Request permission to use this poem