Why couldn’t I see

That something was wrong?

Why did I think

It was okay to be told 

Who I could be friends with,

What I could wear,

Who I could be?

I followed her every command,

Remained in her shadow,

A ghostly reflection,

But invisible all the same.

I let myself be dragged around,

My will so bent and broken

That I didn’t even notice

I was not

The one in control.

Why do I feel like my life is always

In someone else’s hands?

Is this who I am?

Just a helpless toy

For others to play with, 

A mindless drone,

For others to manipulate.

I was at her beck and call,

Like a trained dog.

I came when she called,

Her words wrapping around my neck

Like a leash,

Squeezing, choking.

I was at her side,

But I was lost.

I was her number two,

Her right-hand man.

And sometimes,

The blood was on my hands.

For once

I was on top.

And I craved that power,

To make people feel

How I used to.

It’s not any fun being on the bottom,

Is it?

But while I toyed with others,

She did the same to me.

I was strung up like a puppet,

Tied and helpless,

Bound and vulnerable.

She controlled my movements

With every flick of her wrist,

And I was

Twisted and contorted,

Stretched and fractured.

But I did not notice

The pain.

She was always the victim.

It was always my fault.

What did I do?

I’m sorry.

She says I am nothing.

I am nothing.

Maybe I am just meant to be

A puppet on strings.