two faces looking opposite ways
can see between them the world
look at these slivers of chains
we carry with us
easily bent
hard to break
sometimes i wish i could pour
them all away through
this fleshy funnel my fingers make
into those glass jars that sit mouths gaping
to swallow what is left of my freedom
but my fingers clench
and they clink against each other
hitting heavy in my fist
and i slide them back to my pocket
to weigh me down until they one day
someday
set me free
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