Pinballs

PINBALLS. I AM HERE.

I’ve become a hostage

who is dazed

inside this mazed

realm.

Kind of like I am stuck inside

a pinball machine

with you at its helm.

The metal ball

thundering

from bumper

to bumper

to bumper

with no respite in sight

because

the harder you hit (in the thrill of the fight)

the bigger your score.

And you never give up.

And you always want more.

You’ve become a wizard at playing this game

of heartbreak

and anger

and feelings of shame.

And the roars of the TILT

deaden

those feelings of guilt

and blind you

from seeing your role

For every time you loose

it's the ball that you choose

to blame

for your lack of control.

Your choices

are consistent

with staying distant

and resistant

to change.

It was an us and a we

that was not meant to be

and I'm tired of feeling

estranged.

Requiring attention.

Denying affection.

Leading by fear

and rejecting connection.

Demanding for things you cannot accept

and then labeling me

selfish

and lazy.

Inept.

These are your strategies at winning this game

but don’t get too righteous

at this undeserved gain

because

these endless cycles of circling the drain

have left

me

battered

and

broken

and

feeling insane

from carrying the weight

of all your

shame.

If I could just stop

this rigorous motion

and

close my eyes (and my thighs)

I’d realize

that I don’t need permission

to see

that its me

who’s the person

that’s starting to worsen

living inside this pinball machine.

And I can’t reach up

or break myself out

until I choose to wipe myself clean

of all this delusion

buying into an illusion

that never existed at all.