Feeling like I want to scream but wanting to grasp onto what control still remains, I clamp my mouth shut. I feel dizzy, spinning around and around with You on the merry-go-round. As I have tried many times before, I turn to You to find some level of comfort, to share my deepest and darkest secrets with You, to open up to You, and to ask advice from You: the One of the very few people I trust. As the spinning quickens, my hands grasp tighter around the cold metal bars, and my knuckles turn white and begin to feel numb. I stare at You across the way.
Your face is a blur, but I can almost swear that I see a look of pure satisfaction. Satisfaction because You are in control of this ride. Every time I make any attempts towards reaching out to You, accusations are thrown at me. Thrown at me like stones thrown at an annoying animal that You are trying to scare off; to get rid of; to hurt. Perhaps it is time to slow down Your ride, or even stop it completely? Deep down, as much as it may hurt me, I think it might be time for me to get off of Your merry-go-round and plant my feet on solid ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment