Im not sure why

The king chose to hurt me

Not with his sword

His words, blinded me until I could not see.

A lot of my drawings have blindfold’s
I think the king put them there


Once I ran away,
I took the blindfold off

At first, the lights were too bright
Burning my eyes until I couldn’t think

But a part of me liked regaining
my sight

I often still feel the kings presence
Even when I’m alone.
Sometimes in my closet
Or behind me in the mirror
His evil stare
Judges me
Even there

Now I must face him again
But with a new perspective
I can see, and he could too
He just refuses
To be new

I don’t think he ever was a king
Only an old man with a crown

Now I’ve become a knight
I’ve been training for this
With every piece of me I gain
I fight.

I don’t think I’m afraid anymore
How can you fear someone lost in their own head?

I found my light.

And he chose a blindfold.