I’m a mouse in a cage
Abused like a lab rat
My needs are met, surviving
I watch the birds
They fly, they are free
But I am a mouse
Surviving, not living

My hands are *****
No matter how much I dig, it’s not deep enough
My hands are blistered
No matter how much I build, it’s not strong enough
I am too weak to fight, but I try
Even though I can’t remember why

When he took me into his arms the first time, it felt like the first warm day after a cold winter.
I could feel myself thaw from within, the embers of my soul regaining flame.
Two broken people forged together by the fire of passion, burning away the fear of commitment.
Hephaestus himself watches our flame as it grows every day.
The capability of binding two people, a rare gift indeed.
By the time we noticed what was happening, it was too late.
The taste of power brought by this bond was addictive. The strength, unimaginable.
There must be a word for such an intense feeling… Love.

You thought you could degrade me and make me believe I was nothing.
Nice try.
You thought you could make me do as you please and make me feel worthless.
You did your best.
You all thought you could make me believe you cared for your own selfish gain.
A for effort.

I welcome your challenges, they just make me that much stronger.
Thank you, for making me a fighter.

I used to believe that you tried your best.
Your phone calls don’t make up for your absence in my life.
I know you love me,
But now it seems you have given up.
I can see you have chosen him over us.
And now we begin to drift apart.
Bye mom.