Scars

Running back and forth, being controlled by the strings that connect through my soul into his deceiving hands. I’m only a puppet in his mind, that he can use and abuse for his own gratification. He pulls each string with such force that I become numb, I become disconnected from reality. He forces his knife across my wooden arm, and thrashes his hand across my disoriented face. I feel nothing, I show no emotions. After all I am nothing but a toy to him, nothing but a puppet in this world. I tried screaming for help, it was silent. I felt alone, no one could hear me, no one would listen.

I learn to live half alive and I begin to kill myself slowly. I fall deeper and deeper into an illusion, my grave. I believe that he is punishing me for my own imperfections, I believe I deserve it. I become strapped down by the label he has embedded into me. He is my master.

 He cut my strings for torture, he enjoyed watching me squirm and struggle to my feet. He knew that I could not stand on my own without his control.

I become a prisoner of his mind. He took something from me that I will never be able to regain. I no longer have any strength. I fall into my make shift grave and begin to decay into the earth. I shed one last tear, a bloody tear. It rolls down my innocent skin and penetrates the soil. I begin to rise from the dead. I watch as I leave my dead corpse lying in the dirt. He watches in shock as my strings detach and I become human again.

 I try to run and break free, but there is no escaping my damaged body. But I escape him. He is no longer my master. I begin to recover and the injuries he has produced begin to scar over, but he refuses to let me heal.

 He visits my new life and threatens me with words and a single bullet. I hide in fear, I become afraid. Afraid of any man that crosses my path, forever I am changed. He took away the respect that I had for myself, and the trust I had for others. He took away my life. But each day I try to recover my missing pieces that I left behind in the struggle to break free, in belief that I once will be whole. I know that I will always be connected to him through the scars he engraved in my skin. However, these scars symbolize a battle that I fought, and all that battle left behind was a story to tell.