You thought you were free, 
The day my blood spilled onto your hands, 
The day you lay your sadistic hands on me, 
Pulling me in faster than quicksand. 

You thought I’d be an easy target, 
But little did you know,
I’d dealt with monsters all my life, 
And I wouldn't let you go. 

You mistook my silence for submission, 
So brashly assuming I was dead, 
But after you left me alone, I ran and ran, 
With the same legs you’d forced me to spread. 

In the end, I survived, 
Dug myself out of my own grave, 
In the end, I fought my way out;
I refused to become death’s slave. 

Now, the blood has dried,
My cavernous wounds now merely scars, 
Today, I'm the one who is free, 
While you sit rotting behind bars.