REBUILD

Just a few more stitches and l will be done. I will be all brand new the broken version will all be lost. I apologies for the balloon's outburst. When the pressure pumped in was too much for it to bare and it's walls stretched to their furthest. With the dictations of you should do this and not that. How it should portray itself before society and it's daily reminder that it's a tool to be toyed with. It's all right if it can't take the pressure it will eventually burst as it tries to please the users. As it enlarges and amazes the audience that smile and laugh in awe, yet internally it cracks slowly. And bit by bit it tears apart, the outcome of it bursting makes it useless and the trashcan becomes it's rightful place. My apologies for the trashcan ain't a comfort that it tends to portray, the downlook from every passerby and the judgmental looks,the kicking of the bin and trampling on its trash, on me l dare say. Am almost done darling let me finish the last bits, a touch of one-two-three and l will be all good to be toyed on again. My apologies to my walls, my dignity and my conscience. The trashcan ain't comfortable though.