I am one.

I feel compassion and so I say this.

To see through their eyes, their world, then I too say, I am one.

I need it. I am weak. I fear being free from its heavy chains.

Freedom means choice. And this is a path I have avoided.

My chain hurts, but I am numb to it. My skin blackened by it but I forget.

Who feels the pain? They do.

Those who feel the agony of my chains. They didn't ask for this burden yet I have placed it upon them.

My chain is not my own. It is connected, binding, blackening all who touch me.

They cry for it hurts. I am numb and pretend not to hear.

It is my chain and I have the key. But the key is in the mirror and I'm too scared to look.

So I lock us all. And I ignore the crying.
And I say, this is my chain, not yours.

Until a day comes when those in the chains die from the pain. I've killed them.

My mirror looks at me now. Its so small and dirty. It laughs at me through its tears.

I open the mirror and it screeches so loudly that the whole world hears. And I cannot hide.

My blackened skin, their cries, the deaths and loss, the hiss of the creak. I am on stage. It is my cue.

Help me.