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.