concrete and iron

my feet are encased in concrete
massive blocks of my own casting
the left is named “befuddlement”
the right is called “craven fear”
they’re easy to pour but hard to lift

that’s why i don’t move forward
or do anything worth mentioning
to remedy this present situation
to disrupt our shared delusion
of deeply cutting separation

i cherish my cement shoes
they make me rooted and safe
but my harridan heart keeps nagging
to lift them high and bring them down
smashing them to bits as i run

before another perfect shining child
emerges from the womb’s embrace
and holds out her trembling wrists
to receive those rusty iron shackles
forged from scarcity and shame

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