groundhog day

I wake up under covers or chains,

Alone in a bed I didn't sleep in,

Clothes like a straight-jacket around my limbs,

My thoughts locked in the prison of my brain.

Outside it is snowing—a cotton cover,

My door is frozen solid to the frame,

The key broken, like an escape game.

And I'm stuck lonely without a lover.

The cliff turns itself into a non-existent drop

And my hands grasp for the rope too tight—

Tied up with not a single person in sight,

And I try to be moral, but I just want it to stop.

The bars around me are rusting but they still stand,

And the glass shackles keep itching in my skin.

The nightmare doesn't seem to have an end;

The day is an empty hole in this wasteland

But the shadowy silhouette closes in, giving me a hand...