The Circle

I've been running in circles, taking all the rights only to turn up at the wrong place.

Only for this circle to be full of everything I want to run from. 

Running so fast away from it, fearing falling back into it.

The more I run, the more it tugs me back, pulling me in.

The rope digs into my ankle skin and cuts through it like acid.

But despite having the scissors in my hand I cannot cut it.

Even if it cuts my skin, pulling me in, I can't do it.

Even if it ruins me, holding me back, I can't do it.

I don't know why I am doing this to myself, but I can't bring myself to cut it.

It's hurting, paining, and burning, but it makes me run back to it.

I don't know why I am doing this to myself, but I can't stop myself.

Maybe I'm a moth drawn to fire, but I am still there, letting it burn me.