Stop
A story about living life on a hamster wheel
Frantic, gasp, fish.
There’s no place like home. I click my heels and long to be back, that some divine intervention will flutter as I close my iron eyelids and I’ll float, fly, fall into peace.
Panic, shooting stars, run.
Run, run back to me. I’ve been running my whole life looking, searching, desperate to find safety. I’m ready to walk into the arms of sweet embrace. I imagine it’s bliss. There must be an edge of this earth where I fit.
Alert, pace, breathe.
Breathe, Bianca, Breathe. I know how to do this, I know how to do this, if I say it enough, I’ll know how to do this. Lost, scared, invisible yet all too seen as doors open and close but it’s the escape hatch I need.
Tangled, music, trust.
Does the process care that I trust it? I’m drowning in dust, it coats my clothes, my mouth clogged, my ears muffled, my limbs heavy. I choke, spit, cough out the clog but it’s pointless, I’m losing, I can’t beat the odds.
Pray, steal, cut.
Cut the chains that cut my wrists. All I have is one body, one mind, one life that I waste on the hamster wheel of time. I run faster and faster in the hope to be spat out of societal androgyny. If I try, try again, try harder, I can loosen its grip. But the backlash of g force has me stuck, glued, gnawing at my cage.
If only I could see that the way out is to stop, stop, stop, stop.
