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Do I owe them my each and every breath?
Must I give them all my blood?
Did I make them my Supreme Leader?
How often will I let them chew on me?
Here I am not.
Overwhelmed, overpowered, outdone.
Shrivelled up, dried up, dried out.
The residue of me.
I proffer myself for ravaging.
Again and again and again.
Am I their disciple?
Or do I have my own teachings to unearth?
Is an urgent reply always required?
What if I watched and waited instead?
And got less distracted by the habit of subservience.
I must have a screw loose to have screwed myself over for so long.
But don’t you worry about me.
It’s only a matter of time.
I’ve got my eyes on the prize.
I can see the route to the exit.
Freedom is so close I can smell it.
Food always tastes better when you’re hungry.
And I can’t even remember the last time I ate.
Come to think of it, I’m irredeemably famished and all set to indulge.
So pop the champagne and lay out the spread.
I’m ready for the mother of all feasts!
No more chasing and striving and pleasing.
Decorum be damned!
Here’s to replenishment.
Here’s to my restoration.
Time to tuck in and have my fill.
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