I am no one’s keeper and no one is mine. You shall struggle to find a cage that will keep me yet, and I offer none of my own. I have neither the time nor the room to find space for you among the worries and the aspirations that I am endeavoring towards. I will not slow to the pace that your able body concedes. Do not join my path if you seek to divert it. Do not attempt my stride if you seek to deter it.
In the end, the most beautiful things in the world find ways of their own. The sunflower turns its body towards the rising and falling of the sun, and then to each other. Dandelions embrace their fickle nature as an opportunity to reseed the world. A weed that people devote their greatest wishes to. Because people find tenacious things beautiful.
So I will not be your keeper. I will not will your atrophied limbs into service. I will not convince your soured thoughts that they should want more. I will not attempt to take you for more than you are, and I will leave when you’ve settled on less. Because no one is my keeper. Neither the loveliest things nor the most brutish could hope to gain my submission. There are no small favors that I will accept as fair lure to your cage. There’s a faint smell that deception takes. A sweet burning at your acrid games. Perhaps you see them as vital sentinels. All I see are bars and leashes.