Inertia is
that thing that binds you
to your bed
in an endless loop
of vivid dreams
and gory nightmares.

Inertia is
why mama never left,
even when he tattooed his palm print
on her cheek.
He’ll change, she always said.
But he never did.

Inertia is
why you’re locked in this dance.
Two steps forward,
three leaps backward.
Feigning progress
with the illusion of motion.

Inertia is
why you choose him again.
He lied four years ago.
But he’s my brother, you say.
Sacrificing reason
on the altar of tribalism.

Inertia is
why he robs you again.
You wonder,
why am I not improving like the others?
They overcame inertia.
You never did.


Featured image via flickr by Derrick Tyson



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