Bogged Down
Lately, I've been stuck in a bog of my own digging.
I sometimes struggle against it but mostly my writhing has been for show.
A big part of me was too tired and fed up to put up a fight.
Besides, there was some peace in just sinking.
Letting mud lap you up bit by bit, feeling sand and stone enter your shoes and snuggle in between your toes, watching the world go higher and higher as you go lower and lower. Sinking is infinitely easier.
I told myself I'd begin planning my ascent when I'm in too deep. I'll pull out just before I'm completely under. I thought I'd know when that was and when the moment came I simply had to hold on to a branch and start climbing.
Last night, I realized I waited a moment too many. I was in much deeper than I thought. And as I grapple to pull myself up, I discover I still don't have the strength or much of the desire. I don't really care if it's too late but , rest assured (if you were restless to begin with) , I'm still trying.
I'm holding on for dear life if only because it's what's right.
I sometimes struggle against it but mostly my writhing has been for show.
A big part of me was too tired and fed up to put up a fight.
Besides, there was some peace in just sinking.
Letting mud lap you up bit by bit, feeling sand and stone enter your shoes and snuggle in between your toes, watching the world go higher and higher as you go lower and lower. Sinking is infinitely easier.
I told myself I'd begin planning my ascent when I'm in too deep. I'll pull out just before I'm completely under. I thought I'd know when that was and when the moment came I simply had to hold on to a branch and start climbing.
Last night, I realized I waited a moment too many. I was in much deeper than I thought. And as I grapple to pull myself up, I discover I still don't have the strength or much of the desire. I don't really care if it's too late but , rest assured (if you were restless to begin with) , I'm still trying.
I'm holding on for dear life if only because it's what's right.