This is the reason for which you attribute me the word pride. I wish that it were true, for you mistake my sorrow as pride.

If I could stand between the lines and await my fate, I certainly would. I would equally fall as free as a bird or stain my entire world red. But this pain is mine, not yours. This pain belongs to me because I am deserving. I am the only one who can survive it.

This pain blinds you, as it does me, so you fail to see the truth behind the mystery.

I do not accept this miserable fate as a glutton or masochist, I accept this pain as a savior and a blessing. The action of moving on is not difficult, nor unappealing, it is simply not the evil that I want.

Colors all seem gray and love is more something said, but it wasn’t always this way. I am the ant atop the hill surrounded by the shadow of a magnifying glass. The heat grows the more I run, the fear builds as I cannot hide. More and more I’m lost in this word pride.

But to burn alive at the hands of the spiteful and misguided child is my burden to bare. It is my salvation and redemption, it is about the only thing for which I truly care.

That you cannot see doesn’t surprise me, only that you speak to condemn me.

I could end it all tonight. But this pain is mine, not yours. This pain belongs to me because I am deserving. I am the only one who can survive it. You are not me and I am not you, but you are not you and I am not free.

It is all I can do, all I can ever be, I must save her this pain, I must save her.

Alone I am free, but together I am your pain. This I will not be.