Tumbling

Alone.

I ache.

Inside I churn and toss.

This way– that way–

I created this merry-go-round.

Make it stop spinning,

Let me off.

A hole rests ahead.

And yet it seems a canyon.

I have been to this canyon before.

I cry out to you!

Screaming from the core of me.

Love me! All of me.

But you don’t hear me.

I am drenched in my tears.

I am alone.

The cavern in my chest collapsing around me.

Why do you abandon me?

Why don’t you seek me?

Why don’t you call to me?

Why do you leave me here?

Disconnected.

We are not One.

I am alone.

When I call to you, you silence me.

You do not reach back.

You put your hands on me.

But they don’t want my heart.

You want to connect with me in your way.

You do not find me the same.

I am alone.

Tumbling. Crumbling.

Dying.

My breath is faint within me.

I waste away.

End me.

Stop sending me tumbling.

Stop trying to hold my flesh,

While my heart bleeds out in your hands.

What Love is Abuse?

Which is better?

To be berated, blamed constantly for choices not your own?

To be neglected, questioning your worth?

Which is easier to overcome?

The mental anguish that riddles you with anxiety?

A twisted power play that rattles the cage you can’t escape from?

How delicate the balance that establishes our worth.

Tormented, forced to be reliant.  Dangling on broken strings!

Insufficient, forced to drown even when you were sitting still.

Who can allow such evils to exist in their brains, destroying the ones they love piece by piece?

Or is it love?  What IS love?

Anger at insufficiency, frustration at lack of progress, neither of these are love.

Berating and blame, neither of these are love.

Tearing down the worth of another, to mend your own inefficiencies, neither of these are love.

Abuses the world does not recognize as dangerous, these things kill even the strongest of people.  Their hands have not hit you, but their words will make your soul bleed 

Manipulation 

Such a sweet gift is memory!  It reminds us of our guilts.

The bloodstained hands, the torn up feet, eyes gouged out by our regrets.

Things we’ve done and songs we sung that brought us to these points.

How futile the attempts to erase the past.  Instead it swallows us whole.

Sifting through the broken strands of things we cannot hold in our grasp.

Pinpricks of light crack through the darkness where we hide our every sin.

And when the box needs a laugh, it kicks itself open spilling the contents out.

Topsy-turvy madness, confidences shattered, there is no end to this hell.

What a carnival is in my brain, enslaved by the Will of those surrounding.

How can I ever escape when I’ve been trained to depend on their every whim?

How frustrating to be enslaved to a mindset twisted and fashioned so well.

Every promise broken.  Every hope let down.  And yet I am helpless to save myself for I have become the perfect slave.