Your strings are tangled, darling,

where are you going,

may I ask? Spinning

in circles will get you

nowhere, might I



Dizzy, yet? I feel

sick just examining

your countenance

visually as you spend

your life spinning

endlessly. Endlessly

spinning. Why?


A ragdoll, you move

left and right like

a hand would jerk

in an amateur

fashion. A pro

would make it

look almost

real – you’d

forget you

were ever

just watching

a show.


They hold the slender

stick that keeps your

string attached. They

are in charge – didn’t

you know, darling?


The ones

in charge


but also


It is their


you see.


We are merely chess pieces,

waiting for our next move.


Puppet to L17.