who am I

You've tied my noose,

beyond the rope and strings,

a perfect knot,

crafted for the devils,

that lay beneath my bed.

Stood behind the demons,

with face paint and crayons,

coloring every inch,

of the crevices,

of my body.

Painted to your desire,

without a mask to hide,

I have become yours,

as known not to me,

not to anyone,

in the family heritage.

If I don't know myself,

how can I be,

of your truest desires,

unless,

you create your own,

desire,

The mask is sliding off.