This is not the face that greeted me at the door. A door I entered with hopes and full intentions to provide relief, a plan that was beaten and faded before it was ever unfurled.
With flagrant snarls and harsh accusations, my soul was beaten, my existence negated. The very thing I needed the most, snatched right out of my hands.
And here, now, where I am the most open, my spark snuffed out, my casings broken, the only person who needs to read this will not.
A refusal borne of haughty pride and venomous hate. There is more than enough time in the world to stare at a glowing box, but these words, this truth is not worth the time to slow down and understand. Unable to reach the one person I need the most to listen, I flee to the treetops. Maybe someone else will.
And I shall be judged, and I shall be viewed with consternation. I will be accused, and I will be the object of disdainful reproach. But never, not one single time in my life, will I ever be worth listening to.