The Unpaid Vigilante

Ever since I was a child,
all I wanted was to shield and protect,
from the shadows lurking in daylight,
from the quiet bruises, no one sees.
The desire to be a masked hero
seeped into my very bones—
I swallowed my own pain whole,
never an unkind word spoken,
always a steady hand, always on guard.

My mind, a watchtower, scanning every face,
keeping my loved ones safe,
and even strangers too—especially the little ones,
making sure no child felt a shadow’s touch,
no innocence stripped by cruel hands.
They never knew my silent vigil,
how I absorbed each hurt,
how I swallowed every unspoken ache,
so their lives could stay smooth, and untouched.

And now, when my body cries for release,
when the weight of swallowed wounds
cracks me open,
you call me names no one would say to their mother.
I was the silent defender in the shadows
when others laughed and danced,
the watchful eye ensuring innocence remained whole.

But you—all you care about is your pleasures,
your comforts, your distractions.
You mock me, calling me “leader” as if it’s a curse
because I dare to speak, to break the silence now.
Did I offend you with my truth?
Does my fury unsettle you, the fury of the girl
who was always the first to help,
the first to hear your pleas,
the one who spoke no foul word,
neither to your face nor behind your back?

Now my rage is too much for you to bear—
but where was your care
when you crossed my boundaries,
when my loyalty to you was never returned?
To all of you who made me your shelter,
who took what you could,
and left only pain in your wake—
go, make merry in your hollow comfort,
for I am no longer your silent shield,
no longer the quiet protector
who shoulders it all alone.

Comments

My Tips Get The Job Done

Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE works. You get high on your stupid WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach me about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my ladyfingers ...

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Call Your Wife... Call Your Mother...

Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

Cruising Alone

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