It drags me down, pulling me by my fingertips and slithers me through a dark, deep, hole.
There is no light at the end of this tunnel.
It smiles at me, coos at me, and reassures me that this is the only way my emotions will never be played with again.
It strokes my hair, cradles me, and hugs me.
But then it grabs me by my arms and shakes me with ease as if I am a puppet.
It throws me on the marble floor and stomps on me with its ugly, naked feet.
It pulls my head up by my hair, and right before my neck snaps, it bangs my head against the marble again and again, yelling
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”
It lets me go.
I am paralyzed.
What do I do?
It comes back and cuddles me.
It wipes away the tears; the trauma on my face; my heartache.
I snuggle my head into the crook of its neck,
and I sleep.