Strings Attached

A reminder: tied around your finger

A note: plucked on a guitar

There are these things

that seem to make you move,

attached at the wrist

attached at the ankle

attached to the carrot, dangling in front of your face.

They are the things you use to pull closed the shades, blinding any outside light.

They are the things glued to the spine of the pages that dictate your entire existence.

They are the things you grip tight or the things you cut loose to control those around you.

They are the things holding your nose in the air high enough to meet the gaze of the prideful company you choose.

Because, only a hallow heart could be swayed so easily. Substance weighs more than strings can bear.