Death

He made me dead so long ago

and in that death I found myself

an angry, hateful version of myself

He tore me down 

and I rebuilt myself

alone in the closet of my room

the alone was what made me angry

but I was strong

and independent

I finally broke away

and it took time to heal from his words

But I eventually found me

the happy me

I felt whole again and not because I hated everything around me

but because I enjoyed the things I used to resent

Another man of his sorts found me

and I allowed him to take me back to death

and resign to the monotony of captivity

no life

just the day to day

survival

but I woke up from the coma

to a mess

but I woke up

and now I am running to anywhere but death

breathless and sometimes exhausted

but running 

I will always recover

but this time I will not relapse into death