I don’t want to be looped in.
I don’t want to be stuck on loops,
listening to the same lyrics,
the same hook playing on repeat.
Eventually, the record player breaks.
No real movement.
No change or growth.
Stationary existence.
Orbiting around the same radius.
Respectfully, do not loop me in.
I don’t live on loops.
I don’t live in boxes.
I cannot function staying on the same cycle,
like a hamster on its wheel, stuck in a cage.
I thrive in open space—
peaks,
seas,
streams,
where I’m free.
Like wild horses
running across a watercolor horizon,
I blow with the wind.
I can’t be corralled in.
Or like a bumblebee,
flitting through flowers,
curious what the nectar might bring.
Be gentle with me.
The real puzzle I see
is hamsters aren’t even supposed to run on wheels.
They burrow.
