tightly

I watch myself hold on tightly and all the while inside I am constantly trying to let go. It's all like peanut butter on my fingers.
   In my practice, I am holding so much that I don't even get close to challenging the pattern. I keep hoping that some sort of change of place or season or people will unlock the creativity gasping and dehydrating in my depths.
  I think my instincts could be correct.
Or I think the ungraceful pressure could force me to a breaking point.

And that's all I have to say about that.