Binds
We cage ourselves with binds of love
Silken threads that won't let go
A self-made trap we cannot escape.
Sometimes the strands are a welcome thing
For they comfort us with their presence
As real to us as a loving embrace.
But at times we come to be aware
Of the cage we're trapped within
And frantically we try to escape
Throwing ourselves against the cage
In useless defiance of our fate.
Our silent screams echo within
And in our struggles the binds do cut
Creating wounds we cannot heal
Yet we continue to fling ourselves at them
As our blood drips in futile tears.
Til exhaustion comes to make us pause
And view the mess we've made
And it's in this silent contemplation
As real tears fall in silent despair
That we wonder how this came to be.
How slow the threads were woven
Unseen by us until too late.
There follows then a weighty guilt
For we do not wish to cause pain
Or push away those we love
Yet we cannot help to admit
If only to ourselves
At times the binds pull to tight
And make it hard to breathe.
We did not ask for this! we scream
So weary of the weight are we
Of love's heavy responsibility
Yet our hearts refuse to let go
And our pride's a wicked thing.
So we gather up the bloody strands
And clean them with our tears
For although we yearn to escape
And at times it seems too much
We know in some instinctive way
These binds are precious too.
Copyright © Angelica Atkinson | Year Posted 2007
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