Cradling and pacifying,
A gift for enabling narcissism,
Wiping tears and standing strong
As the bellows break my spirit.
Never rising
Without repercussions,
Manipulations and invalidations,
Demands for constant zombification.
Fingers inching for cherished blades
Obedience tastes bitter.
I should have learned to be docile,
To know when to wither.
Instead I was born with poison
Pumping through my veins,
Chaos clawing my brain,
And wrath as my twisted crown.
