This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Kutztown chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
Like an umbilical cord, you keep me tethered,
To that delicious hope I crave so much.
I’m your marionette
And I can’t move my strings.
You whisper lies to my bird-brained head,
Telling me I’ll fall into the snake pit again,
Believing I won’t become anything
More than your lover.
You were right though,
I’m not going to the moon,
I’m not going to cure all the plights in the world.
I’m not going to slay my own demons.
You made that so,
And so, I stay.