Why are you yelling at me?

I see you standing there.

Why are you yelling at me?

I can’t move. I can barely breathe.

Why are you yelling at me?

My legs and arms ache from immobilization.

Why are you yelling at me?

Dust from your rapid steps fill my eyes and nose.

Why are you yelling at me?

The ropes are my hopes and dreams. Wrapped tightly, knotted.

Why are you yelling at me?

I would cry.

But you’re yelling at me.

Cry would be all I could do. I can’t move. Now not even my eyes.

But you continue to yell at me.

Your words, I can’t make out. Have you plugged my ears?

Then why yell at me?

You scream, shout, stomp and fuss.

Continuing to yell at me.

What have I done to you? What injustice do you perceive?

That would cause you to yell at me?

You have the floor. All the words are yours. Are you getting horse?

Still you yell at me?

Do my hopes hurt you physically?

Do my dreams cause you pain?

Are you still yelling at me?

My wishes cause you grief?

My desires drain your energy?

I don’t think your yelling at me?

I can hear your tears as you whisper in my ear.

At least you have stopped yelling at me.

Can we work together to unravel my hopes and dreams?

Work together in a manner where you don’t yell at me?

Is there a middle ground? Where we can both stand?

Where you don’t yell at me?

Will we ever be friends? Can we make amends?

Or will you forever be yelling at me?

Do I dare to dream?

Or will you yell at me?

If I stop dreaming,

will you help me up?

If I dare not see a future that you perceive doesn’t exist,

will you stop yelling at me?

What must I do –

for you to stop yelling at me?