A little while back, I came across a very interesting twitter handle. It said , ‘rebel daughter’.
This got me thinking about rebels and how they are misunderstood in modern society. Categorised as ‘hopeless’, ‘unnecessarily vengeful’, etc. Thus, I present to you my opinion. In a rebel’s voice herself.
As a rebel. For a rebel.
He created me,
he destroys me.
You can see him in my eyes,
his heart is where my happiness lies.
I’ve known him all along.
We would hum the lyrics of a viral song.
And stay out, like it was never too long.
All the while he would teach me the right and the wrong.
But then, life took a turn.
I wish all those memories could burn.
He hurt me deeply, like never before.
Emotions played with, never to return safely ashore.
I considered the possibility of his innocence.
Maybe he was the same person he was once.
Had my rash actions hurt my conscience?
I decided to think before acting, whence.
Alas, he hurt me again.
I could feel the numbness and the pain.
My resolve broke and I could no longer bear it.
I decided to destroy him bit by bit.
I’m called a rebel by all.
In my defence, I chose to never feel small.
Would you really stand by the people who were the reason for your fall?
Yes, you say out of fear. That’s your call.
As for me, I’ve long forgotten the language of love.
I ruin the people who hurt me, from my alcove.
The guilt weighs heavily upon me,
yet I punish the guilty. This is how I choose to be.
My true story, you’ll never hear.
Though, occasionally I peer
into the outside world, not out of fear.
Rather curiosity. Each time, the same words echo.
“Forgive me, daughter dear.”