Cradling and pacifying,
A gift for enabling narcissism,
Wiping tears and standing strong
Even as the bellows break my spirit.

Never rising
Without repercussions,
Manipulations and invalidations,
Demands for constant zombification.

Fingers inching for cherished blades
Obedience taste bitter.
I should have learned to be docile,
To know when to wither.

Instead I was born with poison
Pumping through my veins,
Chaos in my brain,
And wear wrath as a crown.