I feel all at once thrown up, as the ball in a child's game, thrown from hand to hand in the glee of the players. And yet as the ball I feel the anxiety of the initial launch, the growing dread of the acceleration. The pungent fear of the plummet. The growing anger at my mistreatment before the toss begins again.  I feel all at once caught between the rock of my  need and the hard place of my desire. Each squeezing me ever tighter, pressing me ever more, forcing me ever deeper. Forced to at a multitude of times be pushed past the line of determination I have drawn in the sand. To walk and trip over the words that like my laces I had thought tied and secure. I feel all at once thrown off balance, within the free fall of resending my words my resolve and lamenting my decision after the deed is done and my goal like my body crashes into the ground. I ask myself where is this to end, am I to forever bend to the force of nature, unstoppable as a hurricane sweeping away all my mental strength. Am I to only be a leaf to my emotions, reactions, blown away from the safety of my branch. Left to drift aimlessly till the wind decides to set me down to lay in an insignificant pile. Have I not a single fiber in my being capable of drawing forth anger like a geyser to stretch out from the depths of my heart and rebel. Or am I simply a ball tossed between whichever two forces that decide to use me as their play thing. Tossing me with out any regard for the safety of my mind. Oh peace I ask from where will you come, for I need you now.