A Kind of Villain

A true villain’s a villain
With tears in her eyes,
Where with every step that’s taken
Another part of her dies
And she knows it and she fears
But still it disappears,
Replaced with spite and rage;
A cage for yet another cage.
But the choice still is made…
And if gnawing on the bars
Tastes even a bit like “free” —
Well then, she’s an addict
And she will not sit quietly.

2 thoughts on “A Kind of Villain

  1. “A cage for yet another cage”

    Apt description, Rachel, of the additional blankets we layer upon our disguises.

    We did all of this for…”them,” to please them and to comply with what we thought were their expectations.

    Now, our original selves cower beneath how many rags? Even if we can locate ourselves, after all this time, do we dare throw off the impostures? Do we have the courage to do this, and the flexibility to absorb new expectations?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s funny, how much — and yet, how little — can be in a word. “Them;” Impossibly vague, yet incredibly consuming. You somehow know that “they” will not understand, and yet — who are they? Your parents, your siblings, your best friend? How is it that those we should love the most somehow become our undefined monster? But expectations can be such a powerful thing… And who expects more than they who have known you the longest?

      Certainly, it can feel so much safer to just add another layer of rags and huddle down into our ever thickening armor… But I think it’s very telling, that even as we hide our face, covering it more and more, we still hope for someone to catch a pair of eyes among all these tatters.

      Liked by 1 person

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