Hephaestus’ Cage

The blame game

wraps like ivy across my heart,

squeezing so that I might —

fall. Never have I seemed so weak,

wasting my time dreaming,

so that my blood is clear like water,

like my vision of the future,

but the glass ball grows blurrier —

misting fogging fading —

With each passing second,

my eyes close to my reality

and open to the glass cages

Hephaestus crafted for me.

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