6 views
I Am Not the Only Monster (The Ramblings of a Dead Man)
For me, time has stopped. Every day the growing impatience in me threatens to boil over, and I'm not sure how much longer I can take it.
For a long time I've asked myself if it's really worth it; if this aching, hollow hole in my chest is really worth it. It was the price I paid. I paid a big one. And every day it reminds me of just how foolish I am. Naive. I can never go back, I can never rebuild what I have broken.
They had dreams. The world was ready for them, and I took it all away. Of course I felt bad, who wouldn't? When everybody points the blame to someone else, the guilt gets to you. I have not only ruined three lives, but five. His, and my own. Him. The man who took the blame.
I condemn him. I condemn those who choose to justify my actions, those who soften the spear. I bear no gratitude to him. He has suffered for me, suffered for a murderer. They know my name. They know what I did. But yet, i am not the one behind bars. They do not care.
And they console me. They console the very man who stole away the joy, stole away the light in their lives. What have I done? I have destroyed. I am not proud; I am not okay. So do not pity me, pity your children. Pity those who have died, and pity those who have forgiven me. Pity them. Please.
When I have gone you will start to heal. When i am gone, the holes will scab over. I am not saying you will forget them or you will ever forgive the man who pretends to be me. I will never say that. Know only I surrender my life for the lives I have taken. I am sorry. But no amount of sorry will ever fix this. No amount of sorry will ever bring them back.
The man who calls himself the killer is worse than me. Imagine wanting credit and fame so bad you confess to a crime you never committed. You do not listen to me, only him. The most likely candidate.
I must warn you, the public shunning of a man false in his actions is only consolation to him, only gravitation. I condemn him, I condemn him to whatever may be out there.
They didn't deserve to die. They didn't. What have I done? I have destroyed. And what I have loved, I have killed. My actions are a lottery wheel and I am the unlucky player. I take all responsibility, though. I do not fake my innocence. I have confessed and I have confessed blatantly, you should do well to listen. The evidence is staggering. How have you not shunned me? Why do you not hate me? What not have I done, pray tell, to earn your hate?
You have shunned the wrong man. You have ignored logic and jumped to coincidence. I am not yet the only monster.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved
For a long time I've asked myself if it's really worth it; if this aching, hollow hole in my chest is really worth it. It was the price I paid. I paid a big one. And every day it reminds me of just how foolish I am. Naive. I can never go back, I can never rebuild what I have broken.
They had dreams. The world was ready for them, and I took it all away. Of course I felt bad, who wouldn't? When everybody points the blame to someone else, the guilt gets to you. I have not only ruined three lives, but five. His, and my own. Him. The man who took the blame.
I condemn him. I condemn those who choose to justify my actions, those who soften the spear. I bear no gratitude to him. He has suffered for me, suffered for a murderer. They know my name. They know what I did. But yet, i am not the one behind bars. They do not care.
And they console me. They console the very man who stole away the joy, stole away the light in their lives. What have I done? I have destroyed. I am not proud; I am not okay. So do not pity me, pity your children. Pity those who have died, and pity those who have forgiven me. Pity them. Please.
When I have gone you will start to heal. When i am gone, the holes will scab over. I am not saying you will forget them or you will ever forgive the man who pretends to be me. I will never say that. Know only I surrender my life for the lives I have taken. I am sorry. But no amount of sorry will ever fix this. No amount of sorry will ever bring them back.
The man who calls himself the killer is worse than me. Imagine wanting credit and fame so bad you confess to a crime you never committed. You do not listen to me, only him. The most likely candidate.
I must warn you, the public shunning of a man false in his actions is only consolation to him, only gravitation. I condemn him, I condemn him to whatever may be out there.
They didn't deserve to die. They didn't. What have I done? I have destroyed. And what I have loved, I have killed. My actions are a lottery wheel and I am the unlucky player. I take all responsibility, though. I do not fake my innocence. I have confessed and I have confessed blatantly, you should do well to listen. The evidence is staggering. How have you not shunned me? Why do you not hate me? What not have I done, pray tell, to earn your hate?
You have shunned the wrong man. You have ignored logic and jumped to coincidence. I am not yet the only monster.
© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved
