Confinement

I’ve little left for this place—
elsewhere has a charm to it;
if nothing more than new cold shoulders
to brush against, and fresh sets of eyes
to focus on my faults.
This small town, it had its warmth once;
I’m finding I am out of place now,
and know I cannot last here much longer.
I’ve tired myself out on these people
whose beliefs tangle around them;
I cannot cut them loose, nor do they want
to be untied. To see them not struggle
against their bindings is only confining me.