lifeless puppet

I think about what describes me right now. A few words cross my mind: exhausted, fatigued, discouraged. There's one that stands out above the rest: discouraged, withered. I feel estranged from my own life. I don't feel like I own it; it doesn't seem to belong to me. I feel watched, spied on, controlled. I see myself as a puppet; my movements are unconscious, forced. Someone has power over my being and uses me as they see fit. When I'm no longer useful, they discard me, like an old toy. I've had so many lives that my vitality has already abandoned me. I feel my limbs rotting, deteriorating. The passing of time takes its toll on my skin; the color of my clothes shows the change after use. The thin ropes that hold me up begin to lose their strength. My weak limbs begin to droop. My body fades away. My being creaks as it falls, the taut strings, now broken. The puppet of my life, now worthless, broken, abandoned. Absolute silence on the stage. The closing of the curtain fills the theater. Applause, laughter. Lifeless puppet.