I can't understand why my life would warrant discussion or gossip. My
conquests and accomplishments are minimal. It's like some new false
language that I can't understand.

Maybe I wasn't really listening. You see, I don't speak for the
sake of speaking. I speak from the heart. My words reveal me. That's
why I have nothing to say to you.

It's amusing that you consider yourself some great reward... Oh, so
beautiful... precious... astounding.

And if I caused you distress in your life, it's because I've
deemed you worthless. I think nothing of chewing you up and spitting you
out, because I consider you nothing.

You always said you'd be there to pick me up when I fell. Your
outstretched hand, enclosed in mine. And I took you down.

You knew someday I wouldn't be there. I knew I'd kick you in the
ass. I just couldn't stand to see you disrespect yourself. You were
destroying yourself, and me with you.

Alive.
I'm alive.
I'm a lie.
I'm awake.
I've awoken.
I denounce you.
I forgive you.
I am reborn.
 
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