𝐸𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓅𝑒

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Escape


A branch looming

over the edge

of quick, slick

grains of sand,

held by a being

filled with pity,

sympathy,

empathy,

or guilt.


Kind eyes, deceptively so,

gilded branch, enticingly so,

but the distrust and hostility

of the quicksand is

gripping,

controlling,

lying,

destroying,

devastating.


Always impossible to tell 

exactly their intentions,

but there is no other branch,

no other exit,

no other escape,

no other way.


Am I trapped here?

Or do I grab ahold

of that gilded branch,

that little light of hope,

praying it won't

be ripped from me

as it once was

way back when?

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