Society, Anxiety – Those two rhyme, don’t they?

Pull the band taut,
Pull it back, flick it,
Don’t be surprised when it creaks
Under the might of your fingers.
The more you pull me, the less I can give,
The less I can stretch,
The less I can live.

I’ve come to terms with my
Lack of elasticity,
I’ve come to terms with the
Lack of time I have to take
To make
Myself stretch.

I want to grow, but instead I shrink,
Shrivel, break, snap.
Pull it back,
Watch the pieces fly.
I want to, I want to, but this elastic
Has muscle memory,
And it spasms
When I go too far.

I’m made of rubber, and you’re made of glue,
I snap, and you do
What you’ve done all along,
Steadfast, strong.
You make me think
I’m doing it wrong,
And the collective effect
Is that you keep growing,
And I keep shrinking,
And maybe you’re thinking
The same thing as me,
But you look like you know
What you’re doing –
Why not me?

You keep pulling back, inch by inch – does this work?
But I snapped back at inch one,
And it hurts.
It’s one thing to stretch, and never go back.
It’s another thing
To try, and then snap.
No, I don’t want to try again,
I don’t even want to get up.
I’m done.
Put the pieces back down,
I’m trash.

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