Return From Ruin

You overthrowing me that day.

Was not my submission.

In a hair’s breadth of a moment, I weighed my options.

If I fight back with my fullest potential,

I will lose my life and with that, my integrity.

I already read the coldness in your eyes.

I already knew your intentions.

I had already read the truth.

You came to destroy.

A void that did not seek dominance,

But obliteration.

This was never about power.

This was about destruction for its own pleasure.

Cruelty without honor.

If I allow myself to be maimed,

There is a chance I will survive.

Out of the quiet precision of survival,

I chose the latter.

Not out of weakness.

But out of calculation.

You disguised your venom.

Laced lies with just enough truth to confuse.

You needed me to trust you just long enough.

This was not the chaos of a broken soul.

This was choice.

This was malicious intention dressed in human skin.

There was no honor in what you did.

No justification. No righteousness.

Only the quiet hunger to dismantle

Simply because you couldn't become anything or anyone close to me.

I did not wrong you.

What I carry in the strength of my own presence reflects everything you are not.

You are threatened by what I had that you could never steal

Self-worth.

The audacity to be whole without permission.

The fire to remain unowned.

So you did what cowards do

You cloaked your envy in care,

Smiled while sharpening the knife,

And whispered comfort as you twisted it in.

I let you savor your illusion.

Let you revel in the pain you inflicted.

Let you feel godlike.

While I memorized the weight of your hand,

The pattern of your rage,

And the sound of your breath

As you played executioner.

You really do not know what you’ve done

Nor the long lasting impact it had.

Nor do you care.

And that is your final mistake.

Because I do.

And I remember everything.

And still, I did not submit.

I did not give you the satisfaction of ending me.

Violation is not submission,

Nor is sabotage the same as defeat.

I will return.

Not as what I was.

But as what I was made to become

And when I do,

I won’t come seeking justice.

I will not come asking for answers.

I will come as consequence.