I feel like a dog from a cartoon
with a bone dangling in front of my face.
It’s right there.
I can see it.
If I wanted to, I could reach out
and grab it.
I could have everything I ever wanted.
But I can’t.
The second I get too greedy
and try to take it before it’s given,
it will be riped away from me.
It’s so hard.
It’s so tempting.
It’s right freaking there.
Sometimes, it’s like the bone is
purposely pushed closer to my face,
making it so hard to ignore
just to test my limits.
I can’t tell you how many nights
I’ve been up late crying because
I want nothing more than to take
this freaking bone that’s in my face.
It’s so obvious that I want it
and it seems so obvious that I can have it,
but every time I get to confident
and try to go for it,
And I’m left empty,
punished, for falling for the bait.
Why do you put me through this?
Why do you torture me so?
Just throw me the god damn bone
or throw it fucking out.
I can’t handle it anymore.