I feel like an object

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I feel like an object, a possession. Everyone loves what I do for them, but can’t be bothered to do for me. Time and time again. A story that plays on repeat. A curse I am forced to live, a path I wish I didn’t forge. Like a jewelry box ballerina, you wind me up, and decide when I play for your enjoyment. Then, when you bore of me, I’m stashed away in my dark box. Until you wish to see me dance again. And I’ll dance long after the music stops playing, circling. Will I soon be submerged in darkness forever?

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NavigatingTheAbyss

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Posted: 2 years ago
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External URL: reddit.com/r/Poems/comme...