Turn Around

you are scraping at the ground with bloodied bare fingers, eyelids nailed shut and a staggering weight on your shoulders, your ankles chewed raw from every time you stood, raised a hand to your shredded neck, and Master pulled so the shackles bit deep and you fell again. the rusty iron bands are too big and chafe at you, but never slip off. trying to find something you once lost, you think, you know. you hope it's still there but when you reach too far, Master--Monster--leaps onto you, tears at your flesh with jagged claws and teeth till you can't even scream, though your jaw still stretches open, wide in anguish. sometimes you collapse, sobbing for your cracking spine and useless eyes and bloody hands and "i'm a good person," you say, calmly sipping coffee in the dark, leaning back in your chair. you smile hollowly and turn from the light i'm holding out to you. stubborn, It glows brighter at your back.