The Masochist

She had a beautiful mind with an ugly trait
She was a beautiful soul in an ugly place
She has a story all her own
One that God has delicately sewn
She wore a smile, cheery and bright
She was a lover not built for the fight
But like many she wore a mask
She bottled her emotions in a cleverly designed flask
Opened only in the late hours of isolation
Overwhelming her beautiful mind without hesitation
Cascading through her body, making her eyes twitch
Rolling on, causing her scars to itch
Awakening the beast taking residence in her soul
Adding to the painful words of ridicule
Controlling her movements, her urges
She reaches for what splits merges
Metal to flesh, on motion rips a mend
The Masochist reunites with her best friend
The coppery scent fills her senses
Tearing down her last defenses
The Masochist takes a step forward
Then becomes a coward
Hidden away in that clever design
Where her pain can resign
The night owl returns the lid to her chest
And replaces the mask that had fallen to a mess

The Masochist walks among her brothers
Though she'll never notice the others