You wear kindness like a mask—
mine was carved into me.
I was labelled with whatever you want to think of me.
Name me as you please,
call me as you want me to be,
even when I am not.
You let me wear it like a cloak of shame,
like I was being stripped naked,
like I was labelled to be a thief,
a liar,
a user.
Well, like I said,
call me as you wanted me to be.
Even then, you were never contented and satisfied.
You turned me into a monster, a beast—
you saw me as a devil.
Honey, we are alike in other ways,
perhaps? sort of.
But my attitude with yours is different.
I may be your wonderful creation,
but you never own my soul.