We’re like foie gras geese,
force-fed information
except we control the hose.
We can walk away.
I did it. Cut the cord and walked.
I unwound the threads that held me
and followed them out of the labyrinth,
through the door the spider held for me.
Outside. I re-wild. I walk into misty hills.
I watch the sun set for the first time in ages
and hold faith
that it will rise again.