Chains

You can’t lie.

That hamper in your proud stance

is the chain that holds you down,

keeps you back.

Don’t you know,

I see your burden?

Every link is a line

in your brow,

aching to be smoothed away,

Lifted.

A step,

and your neck creaks

with the weighted layers of steel.

I want to run,

Break each layer for you,

Fix you.

Time, sand and sleep.

Sleep screams at me

each syllable is another lost minute;

Hour.

Shadowing the space above me,

neglecting,

taunting,

a cruel master I drag myself back to,

the whipped puppy,

tail between the legs.

Every

Minute

Ticks

Away.

Faster, faster,

Slowing, slower.

My eyes turn to sand,

each grain
falling when I blink,

in tune with the seconds slipping over me,

time dragging itself by.

The clock lies.

It came down to your devil ways

Left, I was,

to ruminate your devilry;

for, what is left behind

...but a broken web?

Thin lines woven and

tangled over years,

precursors to the ropes

keeping me down;

constantly knotted by

your tricksie fingers,

spinning to the tune

of your own little lies...

who knows what kind

of knots you'll make.