The Weight of Strings

I walk dangling, a puppet in a shadow-play, Dragging along old strings I can't unravel. Tied to the scars and promises I've made, Along the way to get here as, I am. The strings on limbs, twitch my intentions, Wrenching my will to veer their way — not mine. My heart aches, knowing who's pulling the strings, But there is too much at stake to sever them. How can I choose, when I’m snared this way, Bridled, and bound to strings I can't reject. I'm a puppet twofold - I can't cut the strings. Some knots held tight through joy and pain, Others snapped, then retied themselves again. I am swayed by the grief required to end this thing Locked and bound underneath the weight of strings.