Dawning Creations

I don’t want him to hear.
This poor, disposable elephant on parade has been dancing circles off key for so long.
He’s grown as your disapproval rose.
His ears itch, ringing with your disapproval about him.

You don’t understand.

The more I swallow, the more I shove deeper down into my being, the heavier he becomes.
His girth encompassing my mind space, comfortably smothering me, craddling me in his choke hold.

This damned heavyweight champion,
my precious obese elephant on parade.
He’s all I’ve got in this space.
Even though you disapprove,
he still sticks around, trying so impossibly hard to make it right for me, for us.

I get confused, confounded by all the possibilities of what could be next.
This elephant swallows it down, allergic to the tricks I’m feeding him.
He’s sorry he can’t let me give you what you want.
He doesn’t comprehend the difference, suffocating me, smothering me lovingly.
He can’t let go, his chokehold my comfort, now.
I can’t let him go.
I’m sorry I can’t.

This world is a massive enigma promising to bring more questions along with you.
Looking at him from a distance, when I can catch a breath I forget why I’m apologizing.

The pink elephant that’s on parade in my psyche has got me kept.
He’s playing around again, swallowing my tricks, keeping me reassured.
This poor elephant.
I won’t let him parade away.