Release Me

Touch me; caress this body that has become cold and rigid. Remind me of what has long been forgotten, what it is like to experience pleasure, utter and absolute ecstasy. Show me that I can feel once again, that I have the ability to let go, to intertwine my soul with another’s, if even for a moment in time. Emotions that I long ago forced into the frigid recesses of my soul must be released or remain buried forever. Delve deeply, tenderly within me; help me to understand that one must break through the prison walls to gain blessed freedom. Do not let the fear, the anger, and the rage cause you to hesitate; for once you triumph over them you will find profound tenderness and unsurpassed passion dying beneath. Within its cold, hard, black shield my heart is beating faintly, is faltering, will cease to beat altogether if you do not help me to destroy that which imprisons it. Though the blood inside has chilled, grown sluggish, it is not too late to suffuse warmth back into my being. Over time I became strong, too strong, until I was unable to reveal the slightest weakness to any man, unable to allow any one of them to see beneath the façade I so meticulously constructed around my soul. Now I am trapped within that very façade my bleeding soul built to protect me from hurt and harm. All traces of feeling were banished from within me many lifetimes ago until not even the numbness could survive in the bleakness contained within me. Now bitter emptiness is all that remains. Even as these words descend upon the paper I feel nothing. They are mere facts, occurrences forced into motion without my knowledge or conscious will. There is no regret, no sadness, not even anger at the unfairness and injustice of it all. It just is. Emptiness is all there is. Yet in it’s own way the emptiness, the emotional nonexistence, offers comfort; lulls me into a complacent slumber that erases from memory all of the pain that was horribly inflicted upon me eons ago. I am now above the triviality of emotions, allowing no opportunity for hurt to befall me, and perversely, there is pride in that. The knowledge that I have exacted such control over that which was heretofore erratic, volatile, and completely uncontrollable births self-confidence within me, something never before experienced in my realm of existence. The fact that I do not feel endows me with a certain power, a sense of control that I am able to exert over others. It gives me the ability to carelessly manipulate their feelings with impunity. Feigning sentiment I do not feel in order to draw men into my web of seduction and destruction I force them to expose their weakness that I may exploit it, toy with them, exact my revenge for all the wrongs committed against me and those of my gender. As I give myself to you, know that this fortress is impenetrable. Though I led you to believe that I desperately long for you to release me, I have no intention of leaving the safety of this haven. This stronghold that was imposed upon me has become my home, not my prison as I so lead you to suppose. Though you do not yet know it, I am a force to be reckoned with, a goddess in my own right clothed in the glory of all of womankind. Neither evil nor good, merely an instrument of the universe carefully fashioned to unleash the seething anger and rage that has lain frustrated and impotent within generations upon generations of women since the dawning of the ages.