I was the martyr, you were the tyrant I sacrificed myself for. I stood there, mouth glued shut, as your words slithered out of your mouth like vipers. I stood my ground, kneeling to you as if you were some kind of saint. A false prophet, who released their venomous snakes upon me, and oh how they bit. They flooded my veins with acidic venom, which blurred my vision. It stung my eyes and wrapped it's claws around my throat. And oh you laughed, LAUGHED! Even when I was collapsing, the paralysis taking effect, I was using what was left of my strength to hold you as high as I could! Even when the roaches scuttled out of your brain and crawled all over me, I showed nothing, NOTHING! I wasn't petty for running, I was petty for staying as long as I did. I gulped down your propaganda with pure disgust, but I never flinched. I only smiled, to attempt to spite you. I know I was the tyrant in your story, just as you were in mine. Even though I went feral, the collar still cuts into my skin, the rotting flesh being feasted upon by your maggots. They wriggle, they writhe!
I will continue to stay oblivious to the true definition of you, but the true ones shall show me behind the curtains, and oh how the light will burn you, blind you. Only then, will I be able to express my pains, traumas, and suffering.
Only after I can never turn into you.
