Merry-go-round?
No.
Merry-go-****-yourself.
It wasn’t a pleasant belly laugh joy ride
Like a 4 year old smiling on a rotating plastic pony.
It was a ******* wood chipper.
And you slowly fed me through.
A ******* whirlwind.
Where you pushed me in, limb by limb.
And I swear, before my head got forced in,
I swear for a second I saw you finally smile.
I could describe it like a horror movie villain,
Like some mythical demon,
But you were so much more terrifying.
Though, I fear you forgot how strong I am.
You were quick to believe you had me deep under your spells.
I don’t stay broken for long,
I reform stronger.
I’m not scared of you anymore,
So if you’re like Stephen king’s clown;
He who floats in the sewers,
You can no longer thrive and survive off my fear.
It’s dissipated.
Without a lifeline now, and soon you will die.
In reference to a poem my ex asked me to write called “merry-go-round” back in 2015.
