You see the slices of me. The bits and pieces that make up the wedges. The ones that you know normally make up a wheel. But, there isn't anything else but those two wedges for you, so there must only be air that fills the rest of the void. To you, you don't see the sphere. That I have shown you a few wedges of different wheels and they don't even correspond because there are so many wheels within wheels inside the sphere that makes up me. There isn't a lot of room for air. I fill my being up with everything. All your feelings. All your expectations, dreams, goals, ambitions. I do it for everyone that I speak with. I hold onto all their wedges. Waiting until they need me to help comfort them. To you, I am just a doll, sitting, waiting. Strings holding up my wrists by a paddle that fits someone's hands. The people who want to come along and play with me, don't know how to treat dolls. They toss them around. Yell. Neglect. Abuse. I move on my own and people are surprised. How does that puppet move on it's own? How does she get around without someone else dictating for her? How does she survive on her own without someone else who can show here where to go and what to do?
How indeed.
How can I move so freely and openly. Without allowing anyone else to see my depth. All you see is the strings. The few pieces that I say is okay. The amount I let people see is less and less the more that people find ways to manipulate me. Find more ways to use the wedges against me. The ways that they can find weakness.
To you....? What do you see? Do you see that I am just a hollow shell waiting to be played with? Or do you understand that I am a being capable of so much that people simply do not comprehend the ways that I can move, the ways I can be.
Being multi-faceted as a sphere where people expect me to be a circle, like everyone else, when they don't even see that I'm a complete wheel.
I'd rather live inside my sphere, constantly moving and growing, than pretend I care what you see.
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