Duke It Out
She’s the pieces of myself that I’ve lost. With these pieces, she was able to become something else entirely. She was something unpredictable in my methodical life, and that scares me— terrifies me even.
She wishes for control, but I can’t give her that. I’m too afraid to lose myself in her. I don’t want to be pulled by the strong tides she creates, and she doesn’t want me to hide away.
She’s the embodiment of my patience, kindness, and a bit of my narcissism. She wants to do more things than what society’s standards enforce upon us. She wants out.
Freedom is always at the tip of her tongue, but I always sew it shut. She’s so stupid sometimes, always wanting to do things she knows we can never do. Yet, she searches for ways of how we can do them and when. She’s the adventurous spirit I had lost from when I was young.
Whenever I try to sit down, she wants to stand up. Whenever she wants to sleep, I have to do things outside. We take turns controlling the body, but I make sure that the mind is always mine. She can’t control my impulses, and I won’t let her. This ongoing war will surely end in my favor.
She tries so hard to retain control, but we both know that she can’t hold it for long. I will be the winner of this battle and the next few, this is a fact set in stone. She still tries, trying to break free of this shell I forced us into. It’s amusing at the least, to watch her scratch the walls and call out to me; to scream at me.
“It’s my body!” She would always shriek at me. Tears glistening in her eyes and hiccups escaping her mouth. I always stare down long and hard at her, something akin to a smile on my face. While I watch her squirm under my gaze, I’d whisper a single phrase that would break her every single time.
“It’s not yours anymore,” I cracked a grin, “it’s mine now.”
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