Like a cat chasing its tail.

I always wondered when my ghosts would catch up. I have been running
away from them for so long and I am now beginning to wonder where I am
running to or if I ever had a destination in mind. I think I've run out
of breath. I don't have the stamina to run away anymore. As I pause for
breath my ghosts surround me. Immerse me in their ethereal presence.
Dance in my dreams. The people that surround me stare through my ghosts
and focus on their own. I don't blame them and I am not to blame for
mine. People were always right, you cant run away from what you have
done but why cant I run away from what was done to me.
And now it's happening again. Same thing, different person and a new
crisis. A Pandora's box springs open spilling torment all over the
floor. I need something to cling to, some form of stability. I try to
find it anywhere I can. I need to have an undying trust in someone but
I trust nothing. No one. I don't even trust myself. Who can I trust?
How can I trust, when my world is crumbling around me? I watch, as the
glass box that surrounded me and protected me now lies shattered at my
feet. It splintered forming a delicate spider's web. Cracked. Fell. I
try to pick up the broken pieces but the glass cuts my hands. The floor
is peppered with blood and glass. It forms an intricate stained glass
window glinting and catching the light. I decide I must live without
the protection and with the pain. I am self sacrificing, throwing
myself upon the mercy of others.
I can't look him in the face anymore because his face doesn't exist to
me anymore. All I see is the lump growing inside of him. He has ceased
to be a person, he is now just an incubator for the thing that is
foreign to his body and yet is part of him and made from him. His life
is now a contradiction; he lives yet he has no life. He does nothing;
he is no longer the man I remember. His sentences are incomprehensible.
His words are confused. His brain; a jumble of words. I want to
understand him, get inside his mind. But I am stopped by fear or
perhaps something else is stopping me. Maybe I am the weak one. I am
the lump inside him. Maybe I need to be cut out.
I wonder if inside his head everything is normal, that he feels trapped
inside the shell that is his body. If he's trying to get out, but I
know he can never be free. I want to give him my freedom. I can live
within my head; I have for many years. My thoughts are my world; I no
longer want to live in this reality which was created for me and which
I have no control over. Powerless I stand. I am no longer and have
never been in control of anything. I stand as it falls around me,
dodging the shattered glass, diving under the shards that scatter
around my feet. I jump between pieces of my existence. I am
light-footed. I hop.
I am a kid hopscotching or dodging puddles. I am totally blind of what
lies ahead. Now I want to shout out to this child, tell her to turn
around and not to follow her dreams. I now know that what you want and
search for is never what you get. I don't want her to suffer the same
pain as I have. I run around endlessly searching for her. I shout at
her. I try to tell her to stop dreaming because she will have to wake
up to the nightmare she actually lives in. I search for her for she is
my redemption, my saviour. She is what I really want. But I can't get
what I want. I am like a cat chasing its tail, I run round in circles
chasing something I can never catch.