Ropes

I hate that you wrap your rope around me so tightly,
you sneak up on me and lure me in.
I thought the time expired,
the game was done
but ever so often you mount your horse and run me over once again.
I can only stear clear so long
until my insides bleed out and my heart knows nothing but to detach its self.
All of this reckless galloping I do to flee seems to dizzy me in circles,
throw me out into the street.
You on your horse,
in charge,
in control,
hover over my soul and pick and chose,
come and go,
just as you please.
If you were to fall off this mighty horse,
you just get right back on but when I do,
when I did,
I can do no more than just lay there helpless.
desperate.
So badly I want you to strap me into your saddle
but instead you continue to puncture my open wounds with your spur.
These haneous midnight rides are merely test runs to see if you are still able to herd...
and these escapades I long to end.
and finally as the threads of your rope wither I reach out to hand you a new one,
stronger than the last.
A rope that takes longer to shred so that your next ride may lead you further...
thru the swinging doors for a stop...
a stop,
not a rest,
not a break,
but a stop.
And I continue to supply you these ropes,
each one tougher than the last,
but maybe your horse will soon tire and a rope you will need no more.

11/4/06

It is interesting for me to read this now and be able to understand exactly what I was going through at that moment. Oh this boy, he has had quite some hold on me for too long. Builds you up then throws you down.