Feelings are like a balloon,

Starting small,

Deflated,

Happy.

One small thing happens,

First animal dies,

And your balloon inflates-just a bit.

Still happy.

Something else,

You move,

So young- able to create a new life,

New friends,

But your balloon still gains a breath of wind.

More occurences,

Fighting in the house,

Brother runs away,

Father starts to cheat,

And mother breakes down.

The balloon expands.

You move,

Its harder now,

Just mom and I.

Life gets rough,

Hits a bump,

As you grow bigger your balloon does the same.

Your new life barely gets better,

If not a little worse,

And your balloon gets bigger,

Of course.

Gravity seems even more powerfull these days,

Pulling me down,

When all I want to do is fly away.

My balloon has been full many times before,

Then I slowly deflate it,

Tears down my face,

Curled up in a corner,

Avoiding myself.

But this time its different,

I can feel it,

My balloon is almost full,

And when it becomes that way,

Its not going to slowly deflate.

No not this time,

Itll be the first,

when it finally fills,

Its inevitably going to burst.