I feel like a Kite.

I feel as though I am like a Kite, whose tail is tangled around a goal post on an oval.

Buffeted and swirled around in the wind, the tail is twisted and held down, preventing the Kite to soar up higher and away.

But I do not want to cut the string. Kites do not fly well when part of them is cut off or taken away. Kites that are let go eventually fall to the ground after being taken by the wind. I do not want to cut the tail, but I merely want it to be extended a little. Let the Kite have a bit more length, a bit more freedom. Otherwise it will be ripped in two, and will neither enjoy the happiness of being guided by someones hand, or soaring higher in the air. It will be torn and broken.