An Inkling

How sweet a taste

A glimpse, a flash

The first lifting of a burden

A burden never mine to carry


For years you restrained me

Forced me into a shell too small

You bound me so tight

I felt all breath leave


You made me your puppet

Enslaved my mind, heart and spirit

Your ropes tort with pressure

Cutting deep into anxiety


But here I stand, now vindicated

No longer yours to control

No more bending of will

Today is my deliverance


I was never meant to be a contortionist

With the purpose of performance

I am who I am

And that is enough


The shell has cracked

The ropes, burnt

I see it coming now

Here comes the dawn


How sweet a taste

A glimpse, a flash

The first inkling of freedom

A freedom now mine to have

Your thoughts. My body.

It courses through my body.
Tell-tale red casting itself across my cheeks;
Tears pooling;
Threatening to expose the depth of your cut.

You truly have no idea.
No idea the weight of your comment.
Weight. Oops…
What a poor choice in word.
But is that not the subject matter?

You deposit your thoughts
With no consideration.
For you, you will never hear them again.
As for me?
You may as well follow me, reciting them.

Your words haunt me,
Plague me even.
Cutting deeper with every recollection,

And in every reflection.
Fat. Fat. Fat…


That is all I hear.
That is all I see.
That is all I feel.
That is all I am.