Words for hobgoblins

I want you to know that I survived, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just that reptile brain that said live, because that’s just what you’re supposed to do. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, like I always do. Maybe.

I want you to know that you can’t kill me, can’t break me, can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do, but you also can’t make my heart beat. There were times when I thought I could die for you, but I have never lived for you, or for me.

I want you to know that I don’t know what I want you to know, and there aren’t enough words to make you understand who I am. There are only questions of what and why there is who and how, and there is not you.

You took something that did not belong to you, but was freely given. It was not a perfect offering but it was never supposed to be a sacrament. Bless me, for I have sinned, but sin is not part of my contract with you. Bless me in my imperfection might be something of value that you could offer, if you can find the way.

Like many others, you see my worth as a function of your satisfaction. There is no measure of success that I can provide, and no regret that I can summon. Your spiritual deficit is not my concern.

Your derision is boring, your lack of humility amusing. It’s useless to spend energy on CPR for the heartless, so I will no longer attempt to breathe life into you. You are lost to humanity, ensconced in your own grandiose fantasies of a world that exists only to make you happy, of saving a world you seek only to control.

I want to say that I wish you well, but that would be a lie, and it would also be incredibly futile. You will be fine, because you aren’t really alive in the first place.

I have gratitude for our paths crossing, but there is also incredible and unmerciful pain. Perhaps this is as it should be, but it feels like a consumptive flow of molten lava bubbling enflaming every vein and searing every cell in my body beyond recognition and definition every minute of every day without mercy or surcease. There is no mouth left to scream no voice left to offer sound. Perhaps this excruciating pain is the only way I will remember to keep the door closed, and remember that i do not need to welcome you here ever again.

My hope for you is that you are bound to your own horrific energy for all eternity. You don’t have anything I want or truly need, so I hope you take your twisted entitlement and misguided superiority to the underworld where it belongs.