No One Can Take Me Away

I'm tangled up by my own mess.

I said this and that.

Did I really mean it?
Maybe I did.

Maybe I didn't.

Who knows?
You don't.

And maybe I don't either.

But it's not your problem.

It's mine.

I know.

I know that already.

It's my problem to deal with.

Unless you poke your nose here and there.

What will you discover?

That I told the truth?

The lie?

A fact?

A false fact?

I don't know.

I really don't think when I talk.

Is that normal?

Sometimes I always rehearse on what to say.

But sometimes it's just sudden.

So I'd have to blurt something out randomly.

It'll normal sometimes if it's with someone formal.

But really it becomes funny.

Mostly with my friends.

They'd say something.

I say something back really quick.

They think over what I said.

I do to.

We smile.

Giggle.

Laugh.

Joke around my sentence.

It's nice to have a funny comment.

Than something else.

Well usually.

Also sometimes, I'd think of something random to say.

It'll be crazier than it seems.

If not, I'll just awkwardly laugh away the pain.

Either way.

I'm still tangled up.

Can you help me?

Would you help me?
Will you help me?

The strings are wrapped around my throat.

Saying,

"You must be calm, be quiet, and say nothing, ever."

The chains are on my legs.

Saying,

"You must not walk, run, or escape. You'll be staying here."

The wires are around my arms.

Saying.

"Don't move, it'll be okay. You shouldn't use your arms. They will do more wrong than good. Stay by yourself. Don't touch, poke, or grab."

And the vines are growing, coming closer and closer.

What would they do?

What would they say?

Everytime I break the rules.

They become tighter and tighter.

The pain continues.

They were right.

I said something.

The people hate me now.

I tried walking away.

My legs hurt, they too became heavier.

I grabbed onto somebody for too long.

The wires tightened.

I let go.

But the wires only drew blood.

The more I do these things, the wires, vines, chains, strings get more and more complicated.

They go over and under each other.

Twist, turn, make secret nots.

The metal became rusty.

The thorns became harder.

The string is tearing but it's still there.

When did this all start?

Maybe it was when I was in kindergarten.

It could've been then.

When my arms kept reaching out.

That was when the wires started.

I got hurt.

Felt hurt.

Then I spoke.

They responded.

The stings started tangling up.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't talk.

I didn't want to talk.

I tried run away from this pain.

But the chains got me.

I was in shackles.

They dragged me down at the bottom of the ocean.

I tried reaching for the sun.

I moved around.

I breathed.

Nothing happened.

I gave up.

Let these things happened.

Now more things are circling me.

What are they exactly?
I don't know.

It's still all new.

But all I know is that,

I got tangled up in this mess.