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.
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