My Constriction

All forms of life; all memories are
Lost in a vat of pleasant dreams.
The spring is wound so tight and bound.
 
In the midnight blue,
The heavy waves keep crashing
Showing no signs of surrender.
 
The blood drains and rushes
To a beating heart and all that’s left
Are cold and empty fingers.
 
It is a constant strain as if
Suspended
From a taffy puller.
 
And yet it pushes against
Solid metal, never heeding
To its groan of protest.
 
Above and beyond, a plate of glass shifts,
Something so fragile cannot twist.
It shatters and falls as if rain,
Deteriorating all thoughts.
 
There is nothing to rely on.
There is nothing but me;
My constriction.