SWAN SONG; tom riddle

𝖘𝖜𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖌

contrary to the vile words i have written, my bloody calligraphy repeatedly cursing you and everything you've done, i meant not a word of it.

strike me dead countless times, do whatever you please with me because i am yours. my shame is as limitless as a horizon always out of reach.

my soul and my dignity is gone but whatever is left will always be yours.

am i pathetic?

yes.

as true as anything on this earth and the next could be, i am yours. crafted by the deities and bestowed as a gift or curse unto you. as sure as the worlds inevitable end, i am yours.

i was bound to you, a marionette slaved to its puppeteer. i tied the strings around my throat and around my heart until my body was wrenched and my wind pipe was crushed beneath the taut rope.

my tortured existence might have been a reflection of your cruelty but my actions were that of my own. i was aware of all the choices i've made leading me to death and onward.

i constructed the gun molecule by molecule, dropped the bullets into it's narrow chambers, loaded the weapon, simultaneously sealing my own fate, and placed it those empyrean hands.

you pulled the trigger but merely because i willed it so.

because i knew i'd never be happy with you.

and i'd die before granting myself happiness without you.