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Words
I hear the murmurs.
They flood my head like an overzealous creek,
Like my eardrums are broken down dams.
The more I fight them, the more my brain reprimands me.
I want to go, I want to hear them,
But my legs are locked in their tangled cage,
My eyes too invested to be thrown into another task.
My body rejects any notion of movement,
glued to this box, overpowered by my own mind.
My senses overload, heart pounding, hands shaking,
Body struggling to break the vines that trap me in place.
They break.
I'm free.
I jump into the driver's seat, taking control of my systems,
Steering myself in my own direction.
Only three words are needed to persuade my mind to overthrow itself,
“Food is ready”
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