Feed the Muse: Inner Monologues (Vol. I) [√]

[ the monster & its teeth ]

It is not fair how you put your assumptions and stamp them all over me, marking me alike as you, a trademark, a sign, a tag that says I was bred from you. It is not fair how you seem so lenient to others, how you easily let them go, but me, you seem to put in a tight, confined bubble made up of your fears. You tell me to breathe but you snatch the air under my nose; you suffocate me.

The red ribbon does not link me to you, it never had, and yet you scream at the top of your lungs, proclaiming the connection of ancestry you and I share. It is nothing but a common tie that the universe has put between us. To me, it does not matter, but you take it as an omen to own me, to clip my wings, to shred my feathers, rendering me incapable of fleeing. I am not like you, and I will never be like you.

At night, I find myself awake with the reality that you intend to drown me in your sorrow, to choke me with your misery. You want me to dance with your demons, to go hand-in-hand with your depression, to make friends with your anxiety. You have to remember that these are not my passions, these are not my crosses to bear, but yours. This is not my war, and I am no soldier in this battlefield with your name on it.

I block your words as much as I ignore the hurt that they bring into my battered soul. One wrong move, and you seem to eat me alive. Remember that I can only take so much before I cave and drag the monster around and trust me when I tell you she will bring you down to your knees. You are not her God, you are not her savior nor her redemption; watch your tongue in your anger.