Control Deprivation

Back there.

Back in a hole of a room.

I had control, all of it.

There was nothing I couldn’t do.

Now when I try to exert myself, I’m pushed back.

There isn’t much I can decide for myself.

Not much worth trying to get to go my way.

I’m just alone inside in the end.

Without control, at least some, I feel dead inside.

Luminous feelings only come out on paper.

I try to branch out, but I’m cut back by people.

It’s weird knowing I have so much externally than internally.

Internally I feel like a dehydrated cactus.

Dying without the water it holds inside.

Unprotected without my outer thorns.

Love also seems to be a problem.

I can’t quite grab it, but I can’t let go of what I have.

I’m the one who never betrays.

The one who just happens to carry mail.

And all others sorrows, joys, pains, decit, lie’s.

All my mistrust of myself stems from not a drop of control.

I have none, been given none.

At a hospital I know what I’d do.

I’d curl up, and not speak.

Zoning would be top priority, a nice form of control.

But here I am, still choosing the opposite life.

Stay praying for this control deprivation to stop.

Still on my knees begging God.

But he still won’t give it to me.

So home alone I’ll go.

Back to a home called my heart.