Change

Change.

How I worry about thee, thy decision put to actions, once started the journey slips and slides like an amusement park ride. ,

The fear of thee has crippled me, like thoughts replayed as a horror movie on constant reruns. My actions become routine as I flounder for the pause button. As if the pause will quiet demands of my own selfish inactions, as I hold on to what I know. Mostly the knowing of how I am chained to a history of thee.

The excitement of thee! Oh that power you flaunt at me like bait on a hook. Teasing my fear with dreams of better, As if you were a baker your manipulations presented in roll upon colorful sweet roll of temptations all lined up for me to try.

The reality of thee, you twist stance with the quickness of a child, you place histories on a hook to hold me there, while I wallow in inaction looking for even one morsel of the sweetness you promised, once tasted you become allusive like the a missing spice.

Your contempt for me is clear, like a bitter winter wind, you remind me, in my history there is only thee. From the moment I became until the length of my life’s threads end. You are twisted and weaved through my days, ever there, just out of sight, then you pounce into the light.

Alas for it will be, until I become thee.