Like vines, we creep upwards
Grasping, pulling, lifting
And at times we find ourselves tangled
With others
Not of the roots
Looping together
Crisscrossed
Strangling
Meeting on account of some unknown force
Whether once
Or many times over
Holding tight
Or not at all
Sometimes however
When we stumble over ourselves
Backtracking
Entangled with our past
And hung by our own choices
The person I am
The one I used to be
Ashamed
Like a vine, a parasite
Killing what once thrived
This leech
Draining life for its own selfish desire to live
~ Quill x
