Little sb-inspired poem

I find myself on a winding, shadowy path, stuck in place. Can’t budge an inch. My wrists are bound and my gaze is cast down while garments fall away. Garments fall away. The evening’s chill bites at my bare skin as the darkness deepens around me. The night grows darker still. Crouched amidst the dampness of my own guilt, devoted to this path I’ve chosen. Took on this trek with all my might. With every step, it feels right. So let me stay here upon this dim and crooked way! Keep me bound where I lie! Let me remain bare, stripped clean! Stay within the warmth of my own remorse! Though muscles ache from exertion though chill seeps into flesh though lips are parched though wrists feel tender, to exist in such a state—restrained and vulnerable darkened sightless exposed chilled sore is pure joy indeed. All else fades away.