I feel helpless. Like a very small fish in a very small bowl. But sometimes, you make me feel like an even smaller fish in an infinitely vast ocean.
I am torn apart by the currents of your anger- Tossed and shaken, Until I am left confused and Alone in the depth of your problems, which you choose not to share with me; and watch in enjoyment as I struggle to figure things out for myself. But, at the end of the day, I know I will be captured yet again, only to be placed back into my suffocating home- where you tap on the glass, until I turn belly-up.
I think it's unfair that you choose when to be mad at me, without telling me why.