Run, Walk, Stop

Heart pounding,

mind reeling.

I'm feeling the cycle start to repeat,

the sinking feeling of my head sounding off the alarms.

Like I'm losing my fucking mind.

There's something in the details,

something that keeps holding me back.

I know I meant a lot more to the rest,

the feelings I feel aren't the best.

Like a guilt that won't lay itself to rest.

Awful feelings, churning paralyzing waves through my body.

Taking out my waking moments as a corpse on stilts.

"Look at her walk, the marionette teetering at crumbs."

I watch her dance, watch me dance, like a puppet being led around aimlessly.

Fucking crippling when I feel this way, so hurt but so used to staying away.

Nothing more than a cripple,

cripple on strings, stilts, something—

Something propping me up, making me stop.

Making me run.

Making me sink into the black, fruitless as it is.

Walk. Walk little puppet. Don't run.

There's nowhere in the black different than where you have begun.