They persuaded her into selling her soul to give them what they did not deserve.
She ripped it from her insides and said, “Here. Take it. Throw it away and let it be known that I am your slave.”
A slave to the unnerving earth that wept as she walked and fell to the ground, curling into a ball of loneliness and despair.
A slave to society that when she curled into that ball, kicked her until her ribs broke and she bled from her nose.
A slave to a mind that told her, “You are wanted by nobody, you are just a tool for them to use.”
She would chase her anti depressants with whiskey and brush her teeth with tequila.
Only to see the reflection staring back at her with a black hand wrapped around her neck, making her beg for air, and another hand over her mouth forcing her to silence.
A black hand attached to a body, and a face, and a mouth that whispers to her, “You are mine. You are my slave.”
A slave to sadness, that makes her mutilate her smooth skin to choppy waters in a storm.
A slave to her co workers, because she feels like her male comrades have power over her and have a right to push her around.
A slave to her lover who forces her to love him, despite his violence.
She does not know her own name.
She only knows what they tell her to feel, when they tap on her shoulder and she slowly turns her head to look.
Only one word.
"Darkness"