paranoya

Am i crazy? No, the voices are there, they aren’t in my head. Distant echo’s of serpentine blades piercing the flesh of my back, wielded by those most trusted. Those held in such high regard, to be thought infallible, but even the mythical Lucifer was once an angel. Words hurt most when said surreptitiously. So, Judas, hurt me, break me, rob me. I will stand here and look into your eyes of betrayal without a word. Not a single one. For any word that i should utter would only serve to massage the prostate of your ego, I pity you. Unable to value trust placed upon you by another, unable to conduct yourself honorably, rather acting in a manor befitting a scorned child.