IV of Cups Spell

I've everything I need and more
yet here I sit 
thinking, sinking
into a past of memories I abhor:
the story I can't quit.

I've shade and shelter,
so much sun I could swelter,
but here I dwell, 
pensive, defensive
about a future I can't tell.

I've three cups, filled up with love
never leaving me, looming right above;
however, here I plop, 
disconnected, unaffected
feeling empty, only apathy,
and not wanting to stop.

There's a new beginning right in my face
if only I'd open up my eyes to its place.
Grounded in my past and all it's taught,
armed with emotions that are no longer distraught,
I should be ready to start my journey of glee.
I should travel and marvel at all I see.
But that doesn't sound too enticing to me.
I'd rather be chained than free.

I'll just sit here and pout
and scorn the blessings and boons.
I'll worry over all I'm without.
I'll brood over the broken balloons, the empty harpoons.

The past of my past keeps me anchored here.
I'm stuck on fucked. 
My rut's forever mucked
on this island that I don't see as dear.