Sunday Manifestations

If forgiveness is a virtue,

call me the devil’s daughter.
Once, silver linings were all I saw;
molten shine on every
aspect of my existence.

Perhaps it was the cracking of my bones,
or the insomnia I secretly adored.
But maybe it was an overwhelming
feeling of abandon.
Life was so tedious with them,
and I cut the string, caused uproar,
but in the name of myself.
I am no one’s puppet.

Chaos had wrapped around my throat:
choking, holding, clinging,
until I saved myself.
Eyes skipped over my suffering,
as if I was a dull party trick.

It shattered me from the inside out,
leaving scars that took months to heal.
I still apply the salve, still check the wounds.
A serving reminder for their true intention,
Their true betrayal.
One day, I will rule this hell.
Burn it down, then heave each pillar back up.
Until then, I will tend to myself,
and remember I am now free,
I am now a monster they have made and should fear.