sidewalk cracks

I have all these tightly gripped feelings. I want to move, and I keep trying and failing, there’s this thick kind of glue, it’s black and it’s sticking to me. I’m all lost stares and gritted teeth. I’m going to try and make this easier on myself, easier to move, easier to flow, easier to be, and I still don’t know how I’m going to do it. I’m having the hardest time meditating and writing and drawing and this is precisely how I feel: hard and stiff and like the grass that was once under the concrete and now tries to frustratingly peak through the cracks on the sidewalks. I’ve come to regret the nighttime because it’s nearly impossible to move, at night I only move under the concrete, and is that even moving at all?