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.