Black box, looking down on me Am I staring at you? You could care less. And I have handcuffs on me, with a tie extending into the ground under the dark mass? 'this is torture, let go, I'm a vagabond!' but your blackness absorbs it all Right, I am speaking to a wall (that's real smart) Have to pull free from this abyss, never fetched pale of water but I try to reach into this well(hole) and yank the tether that only keeps getting longer and longer Weary, I turn around to a scene- sunny and aquamarine (in hindsight, I'd say- Is this a fucking joke?) there's the calm waters, loose waves calling me I step off from the darkness, the soft tepid sand hugging my toes as my feet glide the surface. Will I get there? Doubts. This anaconda of a bond in my hands tells me- maybe. One step, two and three, there's no pull, I reach the moist grains a few more and then, splash! the cool water bathing my feet. I did, make it here. Could I go further? I'm about find out, wave after wave washing away all the uncertainty. The next one wrestles with me handcuffs thrown a few feet away, that's when it hits, trembling, I stare at the truth in my hands- Only I was holding the shackles all along, not the other way around (fuck)