Round and Round

It's a way of hurting myself. Not saying no.
I don't say no and it hurts. I hate myself because it hurts. So I want to hurt myself as punishment. So I don't say no because I know it will hurt and that's my punishment. But by not saying no it makes me hate myself again. So I want to hurt myself again. So I don't say no. And it never ends--the hating and the hurting.

I'm spinning at your expense.

Round and round and round it goes. Where it stops, nobody knows.
But I know--nowhere. It stops nowhere.
How could it? How can I?

How dare I...

How dare you...

No. It's not your fault, it's his.
No, it's not his fault, it's mine.

Well who's fault is it anyways? Does it even matter? It wouldn't stop the circle from going round and round and round. Nothing would. It stops nowhere, remember?
Someone put it in motion, spun the circle, gave it momentum. But it's been going for so long, who cares who spun it in the first place? The one thing I know is whoever it was, they can't stop it.
Maybe they're surprised at the force they put behind the push, maybe they're proud of how fast it's spinning.
Regardless, they can't stop it.
And even if they could, would they want to?

-Beaskie