The Butcher

November 21, 2008
By Leia Walton, Beaverton, OR

What's it like to not know what to say
To not know how to say what you'd like to
Being unable to protect yourself when you’re being put down

You want to tell me it's never been like that
You’re lying
Everything you've denied is a lie

Don't tell me you haven't been shoved, pushed around, stepped over, or unknown
When you finally realize it you'll be nothing more than the mat at the front door used to clean his shoes off before stepping inside

The atrocious thought hits you like a rock
The dull thudding pain causing hot tears to pour down your face

You were just a piece of meat to that butcher who took from you everything

Skinning you to dispense of your shield
Gutting you so that the energy and power to fight back evades you
Freezing you to be trapped with him forever

And it all felt fine because you were safe with him
He was your skin
He was your guts
He would protect you

That is until he sold you off as fast as you came
With nothing but a blanket to protect your skinless flesh from the insecurities he's left you with

Being sold
Gnawed at
Until everything's gone

Don't tell me you've never been there

Gaining everything back is harder
And growing back your hardened shield is painful
When all you have for defense is this harsh outlook on life

You slowly build yourself back up
Taking each set back as a sign that you'll never be the same
But continue to pinky-promise yourself that is shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't ever happen again

But like the great fisherman they tend to be
Another one has reeled you up in reach of his great net
And you let another selfish butcher enter your life

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