He looms over me,
His weapons of mass destruction by his side on a sterile table.
I don’t know who gave him consent.
I know I have Uglies,
I can feel them,
They pain with the pressure,
And He can see them.
Inspecting with his trusty mirror,
Prodding and poking with his metal tools,
I cry in pain but he doesn't care.
Just looking down on me like I’m inferior.
In my mind,
I know I should not be able to feel this,
I hold back tears.
He removes the mirror.
I know it will be over soon.
The incandescent light above his head,
Creates a halo.
I inwardly chuckle,
And this devil gets one hell of a payload.
I can taste the iron,
Wasn't this against his code?
I can already hear the sirens,
In my head.
I see the needle,
My eyes shut,
I try to pretend it’s not real.
Biting back tears,
I steel myself.
I will not let him win.
His perfect smile is invisible,
But I know it is there by
The way his eyes crease at the corners.
I cannot cry!