To the Author, From the Villain

Dear Author,

You stuck me with this label from the day you penned me in
Darkness, Vile, Wicked, Malicious

You said

Dark and brooding, covered in mist and shadow
People shrink away when she walks.
She is darkness, she is death
She is all things cold and evil
Molded into the body of a woman.

The Bad Guy, The Antagonist, The Villain

The very description you laid upon my skin
Built the person I was to become
No matter how many nights I spend trying to scrub those ink marks
They are melded to my marrow, etched into my existence

I could have been beautiful,
Could have been dark like midnight, with eyes like stars
Moved like whispers, like softness - gentle and sweet
I could have been light and life
Earth and good
Molded into the body of woman

But the moment you set ink to paper,
You shocked vile purpose to my being
You breathed miserable life into my lungs
And set me on the war path
That ends in my own demise.

And you simply sat back to watch me burn it all
Just so I could burn with it.
Just so, for one moment
I could be light, be brilliant
Be fire and passion

Just so, for that singular moment
For one brief second
I could exist beyond the dark.