Labels upon my skin

Victim that word again 
This is what they tell me I am 
I don’t like the sound of it much
It gets stuck in my throat when I try to speak it aloud  
It has a funny ring to it the words are heavy like a stone 
A stone that is thrown into a lake and it just keeps sinking and sinking like there is no end 
I don’t find comfort in the word
It scars me 
 
I feel like the earth in a rainstorm that cannot take one more drop of rain without flooding
 
I have a label now 
VCTIM
 
VICTIM has an entourage of words that accompany him now 
Pity
patronising 
Broken 
damaged 
fragile
helpless
naïve
accountability
 Damaged-Goods-NEW
People don’t see me now they see my label and they have already made up their mind about me in their patronising way. The feel safe now with my broken now that they know what to call it
 
VICTIM that word I think I will wear a different label tomorrow perhaps one I choose myself or maybe I will choose not to wear a label at all 
 
After all I am not one thing but many a beautiful contradiction of words that sound like hypocrisy  in someone else’s story 
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