Sitting in my boxers

“Writing”

Imagine for a second, lifting your arm straight up, above your head, now jump back to catch a frisbee. It’s always a game at first. No stakes, nothing personal, amusing ourselves with this fun. Getting more into it we end up walking out, with a lot less than what we started with. Caught up in the moments of tension, I lost part of myself. Taken with my reasoning, while spreading a web of white lies. Imagine jumping back now, not falling this time. Thoughts wrapping.

“yeah you caught this frisbee, now you’re going to throw it back” !

Actions slightly off balance. They notice it.

“Hmm he threw it a little harder this time, what’s their aim ?”

The return a little higher this time. I fall down while looking stupid. Pride a little hurt.

“I wasn’t planning on falling down today!”

The back and forth seeming endless as long as they throw it back you will do the same, we don’t want to be the one carrying the Frisbee, for the rest of the day. Both spinning the smallest of silk. Hungry to send the Frisbee back at them, hoping to hit, by accident. A game no more, not looking to get hurt, instinctively hurt first. I will carry the frisbee for the day but, you will carry that pain much longer. This is war, the battle is already won. The fear is gone and the tension is over, I realized that you aren’t a spider. You didn’t spin a web. Stuck in the moment you became my prey, to fill my desire for comfort. I didn’t want to let you know the truth, scared you would have power over me, I made sure I had power over you. Landing back down from the jump. Ready to return and have fun only with myself.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s