First Born

I drink my whiskey straight, burning right into my core relaxing the tension from a long day. I take a pull from my cigarette, lick my finger to turn the pages of my book. I'm slipping, giving into my intrusive thoughts wasn't an option but, I was running out of time. Running out of the way that you consumed me, you picked me apart then rebuilt me, made me dependent on you. I breathed for you, I bled, I took a vow to be for you and you only. You created a monster, and I fed it. I danced with it, letting the rain fall onto my skin like a hot shower, washing away the stains that was left on my skin, I groomed it. Becoming complacent wasn't the goal, it became a dream that had no end each door turning into another there was no way out. So, I fell in line becoming what you wanted me to be what you needed me to be, I kept my mouth shut, spoke when I was spoken to, cleaned your home, fed your family, worshiped the ground that you walked on. I was nothing. I was the first born.