Polar Extremes

I am stuck, between the polar extremes of wanting and not.

Exclaiming to be alive! But envious of the dead, or at least the dying.

As they are finished, allowing the greater forces to take them away, into captivity.

Just a transfer, really, from one prison to another.

Slight differences.

In my life, it is not the walls or bars that keep me bound, but my fears.

Of life.
Of living.

I am afraid.
I am afraid of feeling the way that I do about life and love.

I am so fucking stuck.