Memories of a Daughter of Narcissists

I used to be the one

beaten and bruised to my core,

blamed for everything that went wrong,

provoked and deliberately deprived my rights.

*

Judging me for someone else's actions.

I want a wife, but not the responsibilities of a husband.

I want children, but not the role of a father.

These are selfish reasons for a life that feels incomplete.

*

I existed in a stifling silence.

Shunned, unheard, never receiving praise.

I strived to prove my worth

but it was never enough; fate faltered.

*

The roots withered before they could truly flourish.

Before they could become something of value.

Now's the time to gather all the lessons of how not to live.

Instinct becomes etched in stone, recorded in countless books.

*

These days, they arrive in droves

destroying another's life,

just to feel for a fleeting moment

like they belong, and I observe them from above.

*

They never gave up, no matter what,

humiliation was their constant companion,

until death took them into its icy embrace

alone in the end, no longer reaching out for their prey.