Why do you walk around with that
mask?
Isn’t it so
stifling?
How can you stand the
restraints you’re under?
I don’t understand why you’re
hiding yourself under this
cruelty, using it like a
straight jacket
to keep yourself from
letting everything out.
What are you hiding?
I used to hate you but
now,
now I just feel compassion.
I’m so sorry that you live a
gilded life, a
jaded life. I’m
so, so sorry
that you
never knew the joys of
being yourself.
Now you don’t know
how to.
It’s too late.
And now I see why you would
oppress me, why you would
hate on me.
You’re scared.
You’re scared of me
releasing you from your straight jacket;
you’re too afraid of onlookers.
You care too much what other people think.
What a terrible way to
go through life, afraid of
opinions other than yours, when
yours is the only one that matters.
What a
horrible way to
live, to judge and
be judged.
But guess what?
I still hate you.
Yet I still manage to have
one tiny ounce of compassion, one
tiny part of me that really
feels for your misery.
Which is why
I forgive you.
But I
only forgive you because I feel
sorry for you.
I feel sorry that
I get to be myself and
you don’t
(even though I
do deserve it more than you).
So,
I forgive you for ruining my life.
I forgive you for making me
hate myself.
I forgive you for making me
Just.
Like.
You.
Which is
why I forgive you;
I know what it’s like to
be you.