Horror Story

It's not a hard landing at all, it's soft.

It's mist and cold air sinking to the bottom of the pit, your welcoming embrace and your condescending laughter.

I never mean to end up here, dependence, familiarity, clinging to blood and scars. I didn't choose you.

But I did.

I saw a brighter future.

I saw it slip between my fingers and found you waiting.

I found you vindicated and sharp-tongued.

I became obedient, submissive, apathetic.

I wore dark lips and layers of concealer, straightened my hair and wrapped myself in fine pearls and

Spoke only pretty words.

I married your nice boy and settled in your small town and allowed them to force me to my knees and

Bow my head.

I let them spit at my heels and returned it with my nose in the air

And every affect of wealth and sophistication

Pinned to my proud chest like a badge.

"They attack me out of ignorance and spite. I'm a victim who can do no wrong. I am better than them."

Your propaganda echoes in my head and I regurgitate it with conviction.

I am everything you wanted me to be.

I am nothing I believe in.

I am satisfied.

The end.