The cogs of a clock for a mind,

Always churning.

A razor blade for a tongue,

And the eyes of a predator, daring you to challenge.

She has always been your biggest fear,

Spinning sweet lies like a spider web of lies,

And tearing apart everything you thought you knew about your world

With

Just one sentence.

That’s the point, of course.

To shut you up, and keep you quiet,

Meek,

Like prey.

So she can have her way.

 

Sometimes,

Your heart hurts so bad that the words come spilling out your tongue

Of their own accord.

But her look renders you

Silent.

Sit down,

Keep quiet,

Shoulders tucked,

Eyes down.

Or she’ll hurt you.

 

 

But you can only watch

The castles you’ve built crumble

For so long,

Before you realize that this is your world

And you should not be forced to your knees.

She may be the spider, but you could be the mantis

That eats it.

You don’t have to be prey, and

Watch as she pulls everything away.

So the next time she uses that silver tongue

Or pipes her tune and expects you

To dance,

You

Stand up straight.

Put your shoulders back.

Meet her gaze.

And finally be strong.

 

What is the point of striving if someone will always tear it down?

What is the point of always being torn to pieces?

You do not exist to be

Someone’s pinata.

Broken to pieces for fun

Because they cannot be happy on their own.

You can be afraid, and not cower.

So you stand up.