"don't light the match!"
i sit in a room with only gasoline which is poured all over the floor and a box of matches which sit comfortably in my hand. yet they dare say to me to not light the match! look what they have done i desire nothing more than to burn down with the rest of this place that they call home. home, a place that is supposed to be happy and comforting but for me its quite the opposite. they tell me everyday to go away and never come back but when i finally decide to leave just like they have asked they yell at me to not light the match! everyday they let me know how much they despise me and how horrendous i am. yet they dare tell me to not light the match!? do they seriously expect me to sit here as i get abused every single day? its torture TORTURE I TELL YOU.
I pull a match from the box. "DON'T LIGHT THE MATCH" i take a glance at them then wipe away the obvious tears streaming down my face. They have no right to say that to me when they are the ones who are making me do such things! they have no right... no right at all! this IS what they wanted and im not turning back just to return to the torturous life i go through every single day. I didn't deserve this, in fact. no one deserves to go through such hell not even the devil himself. isn't it funny that they are begging me to not light the match but yet when i beg them to stop they never bother listening to what i have to say?! why must i listen to you!
i light the match.
i let it fall to the ground
and i let out a smile when i realise this is the end.
beautiful screams fill the air, one being my own
its painful, yes. but nothing compared to the pain they put me through.
