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216
THE VICTIM
<p>O abducter,<br/></p><p>I have danced to the beats you play for so long,<br/></p><p>and I am tired.</p><p>My legs are bruised from running from these walls,<br/></p><p>but every time I find a way out,</p><p>you catch me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Is there really an escape from you,<br/></p><p>or do you enjoy watching me suffer?</p><p>Just when I think I might finally see daylight,<br/></p><p>you drag me back into these walls.</p><p><br/></p><p>Why have you made me your victim?<br/></p><p>I hate your face.<br/></p><p>That face that wears a smile</p><p>as though my suffering is some private joke</p><p>you never grow tired of.</p><p><br/></p><p>I hate you,yet I have learnt to dance to your tunes</p><p>because perhaps, if I dance well enough,</p><p>you will release me.</p><p><br/></p><p>So I beg you, let me go.</p><p><br/></p><p>How long will you continue to assault me?</p><p><br/></p><p>My mind has gone blank.</p><p>It remembers nothing anymore,</p><p>except your hands,</p><p>your brutality,</p><p>and that disgusting smile</p><p>you wore while breaking every pieces of me.</p><p><br/></p><p>My sight has grown blurry</p><p>from the constant beating.</p><p>You have beaten me to pulp already. What more is there to loose?</p><p><br/></p><p>My body has become the place</p><p>where you come to settle your cruelty.</p><p><br/></p><p>How much longer</p><p>am I supposed to dance</p><p>with this starved, trembling body?</p><p><br/></p><p>I beg you, let me taste that bitter-sweet metal of blood again.</p><p>Maybe then I will remember<br/></p><p>what it feels like to feel something</p><p>that belongs to me.</p><p><br/></p><p>I thought you heard my cries the last time.</p><p>I thought when you finally let me go,<br/></p><p>you had understood.</p><p>But I got back to my room<br/></p><p>and there you were. That same smug smile.</p><p>I changed the locks.<br/></p><p>Who let you in?<br/></p><p>How did you get inside?</p><p>Or have I simply become so accustomed to your cruelty</p><p>that I no longer recognise the face of danger</p><p>until it is standing over me?</p><p><br/></p><p>Now I am back here.</p><p>Back in your hideout, behind these walls.</p><p><br/></p><p>And you are playing the drums again</p><p>Waiting for me to dance.</p><p>But I am tired of dancing.<br/></p><p><br/></p><p>So tell me, abducter,<br/></p><p>when will your music finally stop?<br/></p><p>When will you open the door<br/></p><p>and let me walk into the daylight</p><p>without dragging me back?</p><p>When will you stop calling my suffering a dance?<br/></p><p>Because I have nothing left to give you.</p><p>I am tired.……</p><p>Do not find this piece a betrayal, for I never pledged my loyalty to you.</p><p>Writer’s block, let me go.</p>
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