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Image for the poem My Vines

My Vines

There’s this gemstone i want,  
perched right on a cliff.  
No matter how many times  
my hand stretches to grasp it,  
i fail, merely tracing it with my fingertips.
 
I glance around,  
catching sight of vines latching onto me.  
My mind sends neural signals,  
a command to escape,  
but my body remains ensnared,  
writhing and squeezed  
into an embrace to the glade.  
 
These stems grew from the dreadful  
qualm buried deep in  
the dustiest corners of cobwebs,  
where my inner saboteur resides,  
halting every attempt i make to move forward.  
 
Leaving me stuck in a loop,  
watching myself get pulled  
into the abyss of inertia.
Written by Lilliputian
Published
Author's Note
be extra cautious of these sneaky vines, they love to give hugs!
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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