You are forbidden from returning to my dreams. Taunting me, provoking me, torturing my subconscious mind with your narcissistic sadism. I'm no longer your *******. I'm no longer your tattered rag doll with frays at the knees and threading that refuses to hold. No longer will you find a thrill in viewing the black and blue-toned soft spots about my body, find pleasure in the fact that you created them. No longer will your fist adorn my neck and the blood you drew decorate my limbs like threats scrawled in crimson ink. I no longer live in the cage you forged specially for me to occupy. I'll never again ***** lies that have been ever so carefully ingrained into the crevices of gray matter within my battered skull. No more contracts written in blood and marrow, surrendering the black pulp of a soul that may not even exist within me. I'm now my own. I no longer retreat from battle, I storm the walls that you constructed around my heart. I am truly loved and the scars that once reminded me of terror and cowering in corners are now covered up with the finger paint that is left behind every time her hands dance across my flesh. You never won. I have reigned victorious and you'll know it when you look inside your pillowcase for that last slice of my consciousness you refused let go of. You'll know it because it will no longer be there. It's back with me, where it always belonged.

Rebecca Madeira (C)