Thrall

Each day I practice. I stare at myself in the mirror and say, “you have no power over me” again and again, until I believe that I mean it. Each day I prepare myself mentally for you. I will stand up. I will be strong. I will not allow you to control me.

I almost feel giddy with the sense of freedom.

Then you walk back in to my life. With the slightest of hand movements, you knock everything down. I am your prisoner. My efforts are entirely futile. I am enthralled by you, and I cannot escape.

When your choking grip recedes and you bore of me, I go back to my mirror. I lie to myself a thousand more times until I believe it, and then you come back and treat me as your plaything once more.

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