Chained.

Tied down.

Contained.

Choose whichever you want. They all mean the same to me. You want to understand. Yet you keep hurting me, assuming what I want. 

I AM NOT YOU. OR YOURS.

All I want is to be myself.

Without being contained, tied down, chained. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

Am I allowed to step out of line without being slammed back against the wall? Slammed so fucking hard that it shatters my soul. 

And every time I put the pieces back, there you are, to break it over and over again.

Oh, look! There he is, standing behind you, wanting his turn to break my soul. And behind him stands another one. And behind that one, stands another. The line stretches so far I cannot identify the people down the line.

But I have never been able to identify them. Even when they are right in front of my eyes. Blurred by my honesty and trust. Blurred by my tears when they come into definition.

When I look to my side to see the one that's not part of the line, I see them, standing right in front of me. Leading the line. The legion. The army.

Coming to conquer their enemy. My soul. Oh! For what could I have done to them? Maybe extended my trust. And my honesty. And a different part of me to every one. That part doesn't seem to leave them even when they try to return it.

And so does the army conquer me. They chain me, tie me down, contain me. 

Me. My soul. A part of me. Does it make a difference anymore?

Because all I see are all parts of me gone, belonging to a different person. Thrown back at my face in the end but it never seems to leave them. 

Each of them torture me in a different way. There are many ways of cruelty. Cruelty through kindness. Through pleasure. Through trust. Through caring. 

It is impossible to differentiate until all of that is thrown right back into your face.

But I welcome it. I welcome the pain. Pain is a part of me too. The only part that truly stays with me. What is it worth giving up when it is the only constant?

So the tears keep streaming. My heart keeps hurting. And I still crave the pain that the never ending line never stops delivering. 

I remain there.

Tied down.

Chained.

Contained.

Whatever the fuck you want to call it.