Stockholm Syndrome

I woke up in a tank of water
With your hands around my neck.
A foolish mistake, and here I am,
Answering  for someone else’s debts.
Pain. So much pain…
And you’re  enjoying  every second of it.
Dreading every next day,
Knowing that it will repeat again.
Petrified, I await the next torture
Not knowing what would come to that twisted mind of yours.
With every door squeak, step of your heavy boots
And every firm grip on my neck,
To my own horror,
I realize… that you are kind of cute.

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