wondering where I came from,
are you? there were plenty of hours to
ask me, but you were too busy
answering the questions that I had
given (as if that made sense) and I
only showed you my soft side because I
knew how worthless it was to you.
if I had told you everything, where would
you be now? either on top of the
altar with the full spread eagle, cut
clean open from top to toes, and only
a few seconds to realize the overture;
or, even worse, glassy-eyed and believing
that the robe and dagger was once
yours and would be all the way until
you were chosen to see the hidden path
to the inner circle. how in this place
could you ever have known that the
only reason you were still here was
to be a tool to be used, and this
was an ends to a means more than it
ever was a extended olive branch