The Controlling Game

I played that game and played it well till it brought me here today. As a child exposed and vulnerable for protection the blanket would stay. I wrapped it around me tightly and clung through years untold, manipulating and controlling behind this shield of gold. I choose to see no further and exploited every stitch till it lay in threads around me, yet still I re wove and knit. As time went on half clad I bared the dark side of my soul but turned my head and stooped so low to make that blanket whole. I wore it thin, nine lives it lived till that fabric was no more and the threads I used for cover bore a festering open sore.