I don’t break; I taint whatever I come in contact with, breathing easy into my insecurities, letting them define me, relishing in the thoughts you never knew you had about me, as I color inside the lines of a good thing with my need to break you open and understand why you don’t see me as a king, as the be all end all of it all, not the pride before the fall, but the last resting place of your righteousness.
I don’t break; I rise, to demand that my physical limitations should wallow in self-pity as I go beyond the need to bleed my way into your heart, but rather tear you apart with my insistence on going beyond your perceived diameters of my parameters.
I don’t break; I wither into silence and bitter confrontation with my mortality, and the neglect of my actions to color within my own morality.
I don’t break; I forsake the goodness swimming all around me until I force you to live in my self-destructive reality.
I don’t break; rather I take away the pieces that made you whole to fill in my own gaps…
I don’t break,
I’m the breaker –
you should run.
Written for Dungeon Prompts: Breaking Point
Featured image by Vivek Subramoniam