The Monster

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The air is thick, the knots are tight, 
My back pierced by a thousand knives.
They call it love, their cruel embrace,
But I taste ashes, suffer the shame.

They break my spirit 
Piece by agonizing piece,
And plant their seeds
Doubt, humiliation and malice.

The touch, a violation, 
A torture they pleased,
The torment was killing me 
While I silently shrieked.

They twist my pain, scream their lies,
Leave me in the dark, endless night.
They turn away, the truth too hard to bear,
But my rage erupt, a volcano long suppressed 

I roar against the cage, against their cruel design,
But they see only fury, a monstrous, twisted sign.
The victim vilified, the monster now I seem,
The shrill cries of help that went unheard
Have become bold threats they now fear.

My hair of serpents, my gaze of stone,
My strength and power, my flesh and bones,
I willingly play the part they gave.
For if they think it's ruined, it's easier to save.

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