I feel like I\'ve been trying
to stack wooden play blocks
my whole life, and everytime,
someone comes along and
kicks them all
down.
My mother,
teachers,
the other kids;
their games...
Overtime, it\'s become more difficult
to stack them because I worry
someone else will kick it all down
again.
I\'ve lived with this worry for things
I don\'t have any control over,
and I keep rebuilding, starting over
and over again, and...
It\'s the same thing everytime.
They are just wooden blocks.
They aren\'t going to frame a home,
happiness, or a life for me.
They can\'t withstand more than they are–
a chance to believe in myself.
Now my hand trembles with anxiety
for what comes next, if I even try to put
one on top of another.
I feel destroyed inside,
and I don\'t wanna play anymore.