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Maybe, if things were different, I could get used to this. Being cradled in his warmth and light. Being cherished. Being loved. But I have no faith in love. Love cannot save me. I choose vengeance.
I hate the way I’ve contorted myself into what people think a girl should be, ready to please, ready to serve. Yet I love the power it’s given me, a power that lies in being underestimated, in wearing assumptions as a disguise.
“You’ve been living a dream for long enough!” I yell at the cameras between bursts of maniacal laughter, raising my arms. “Welcome to your nightmare!”
Men want us so badly for our bodies, yet hate us so much for our minds.
“You’re my polar star.” Yizhi’s voice echoes in my memories. “I’ll go wherever you guide me.” The Bird’s wings shiver. How did Yizhi not realize it’s actually the inverse that is true?
