Amour-propre


The wall behind me is cold.
I feel the heat of my bare back escaping into it, never to return.
I try to stand, but can't bring my feet under me.
I try to free myself, but I cannot.
My wrists ache, the shackles slicing into them.
The pain, the dread I feel.
And then there is the man.
I can feel him watching me, laughing at me.
His eyes fall before me as if hoping they pierce my heart.
He sits in front of me, day and night, taunting me,
But, he does not speak.
I find myself thinking of what he will say,
when those words finally escape his mouth.
I sleep. It does not come easy, but I sleep.
When I wake, there he is, staring at me.
But, he is not laughing.
Instead he looks at me, and he slowly opens his mouth,
Contempt

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