they had whispered sweet words in my ear,
their silky voice wrapping itself around my mind,
and it had felt like a playful secret
that would be hidden between us.
i heard their evil intentions laced
in with each syllable spoken,
but i had regretfully shook it off.

with no strategy or experience when i walked into this game,
their metal chains now keep me by their side,
incapable to escape their hold,
and it wasn't until recently
that the truth of what they wanted
smacked me in the head with a brick,
and it's far too late to turn back
and fearfully run back the path i had made
with the breadcrumbs i'd dropped.
though it wasn't a path or a road or any of the sort,
it was a hole,
and i was at the bottom
with nothing to use to climb up
except for the fine sand
that my hands couldn't get a grip on
as they just slid through my fingers.

i need to break away;
i need to get out of this hole, and

i say that i will.
i think that i will.
i hope that i will.
but i don't.

they give me a sinister smile
and murmur excuses and make
tragedies sound like luxuries
in the brisk breeze
over and over again,
and i try to ignore what they sell to me,
but their product is already in my shopping cart,
and they're a great salesman,
and i'm finally convinced to buy it
and end up buying it again and again and again,
my control traded to them
and now i can't stop.

but in the back of my mind,
there's a voice begging me to break free
in the prison they've been holding me in.
i need to stop,
but a red octagonal sign
won't stop me from driving.
my foot flooring it,
and the brakes disabled,
i keep driving,
pushing past the traffic cones
that weren't always orange traffic cones,
until the car drives over a cliff
and sinks into the ocean
that swallows me forever.
i need to stop.

i say that i will
tomorrow.
i think that i will
in a week.
i hope that i will
in a year.
but i don't.
ever.

i feel like the little mermaid
without a voice,
but i wasn't trying to get prince eric,
i was desperately trying to get help.
but without the persuasive voice of theirs
and without the people the listen,
i lay in this hole with
whatever spark of hope that had been there
burnt out.

they were never huffing and puffing
and never struggled with the bricked
because it became apparent that I'm not in a house,
i'm wandering out in a forest to deliver grandma some cookies.
they give one final blow
like to the lit candles on a birthday cake,
and the sand collapses,
and grains start to sink into my skin
until i'm buried six feet under;
i guess they got their wish.