never think
you can escape
what you saw
as a child
to become

better

you are bound
in iron bands
to who you were
to what you saw
to what was done
and still being done
to you and to yours

cursed to live in delusion
a cockroach
treating leftover crumbs
given like a gifted cake
hiding in the dark
afraid of light
and what it exposes

you are the hand
tied behind the back
you are their happiness
ground to dust
and thrown in their eyes
blinding them from beauty
you are the shackled legs
of the prisoner
never escaping;
they are hobbled
because of you…

these are the lies
that tie us to the ground
and tear off our wings
that we might never fly again

but,
maybe we know better now