Emotionally abused wreck, tired of standing so long. Every path I rush at, only another trap door. You offer me a hand as I slam to the ground. Your only motivation being? To shove me back down where you think I belong. The bruises are never dark enough to anyone but me. Disguised by my best interests, you have no fear, the court system’s here! But I will never stop running, fighting to be seen behind the shaky assumptions, scars, and stereotypes. There will come a point in time when the rope you wrung so tightly around my neck will fray, the bruises will fade. I will not be the manipulated broken wreck you leave lying in the corner.