I was convinced that I’d never be happy/
that I’d never get to experience
the basic joy
of what it means
to be free.
So ingrained were you
in my head/
in my life,
that I was of the assumption that you would always be there,
making my life a living hell;
Telling me what I should do/
What I shouldn’t do.
Who I should be/
Who I shouldn’t be.
Taking everything away from me.
Slowly.
Unsuspectingly.
Cruelly.
Yet telling me that
you were doing all of this ‘for‘ me,
not ‘to‘ me.
Telling me that,
without you/
without your ‘help‘,
I would accomplish nothing/
I would be nothing.
A nobody.
But now I realise that it’s precisely because of you
that I’ve suffered,
for so long.
You don’t want to ‘help‘ me,
you’ve never wanted that.
You won’t ever be satisfied,
until,
I’m dead,
buried six feet under,
a nobody.
I won’t let you do that
to me
though.
I won’t let you take away my freedom/
my happiness/
my life.
No,
you will not do that
to me.
And so,
every day that I get up,
every moment that I fight against you,
I reclaim a piece
of me
back.
Day by day,
through all the discomfort/
all the self-doubt
which leaves me questioning;
‘Am I enough?’
‘Am I
too much?’,
I start to become whole again,
returning home,
to myself.
Bolting up the door,
locking you out,
making you homeless,
now it’s my turn,
to turn you
into a nobody.
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