Friday, September 20, 2013


He said the arms around
his neck were stifling him.
The heels digging into his ribs.
And he said that the burden
was too much, too great.
It was holding him back,
pulling him down slowly.
But he knew not that
what he called a millstone
was in fact the anchor
keeping him from drifting away,
falling apart and sinking into
the turbulence of his own mind.

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