Sticky

Wade the sludge poisonous to momentum

One day at a time inching toward the unreachable

And even when there is movement much is adjacent to where I need to go

Some have never had gunk between toes and shit under nose

But I can't let that slow me down when I need every shred of confidence just to pick up the pencil

And not worry every moment about the piper calling and me bouncing up and down like a red trampoline

Did every sacrifice mean nothing will I always be pulled down by this quicksand

I know full well that every day needs to count and that it adds up

But there is more on my checklist so off I go sinking again until the day is out

And I seep my remaining energy into trying to not think about the lack

I can't let a daily escape be my only safe haven I need to work with my hands even though my tools are right out of reach

Are others like me in the same myre missing days until they grow old and fat and their creativity is drained from their brains to their toes

Until you retire and wonder where it all went why can't I tap into it like I used to

The sludge has overtaken my spirit but my will to craft is still flickering

However ones must wonder how much longer until I can step foot on the starting line and out of this fly trap