Anika Mehra // THE CYCLE

There is something in me

I do not know what it is

but I know it is in me.*

 

It is the hand guiding me,

pushing me,

shoving me forward,

always there.

 

Like the wind blowing away

a balloon from a child

just

out

of her grasp.

.

I feel as though

I am running through tar,

s l o w

and

unmoving.

 

While I try to pull and escape,

the pictures pull me back.

The smile of a familiar,

the turn of another page.

 

It pulls me away from that I desire.

It controls more than follows.

 

Away from work

and all I care for.

 

My hands move on their own accord.

Actions come before thoughts.

 

I ignore,

avoid,

forget.

 

Sometimes

I find

a way out.

 

I jerk,

run,

escape.

 

I finish

and start again.

 

A cycle begins once more.

It is laziness.

 

*From “Song of Myself” by Walt Whitman

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