Inmate Tea-Time Revolution
Tea-Time Rants: Secondhand Heart
So here I am, one year from the beginning. Still not knowing if this is an epilogue to a show finished long ago, or a prologue to another one. At least ticket price hasn’t changed yet.
It still costs only a heart.
Why did you have to choose me?
There were many other pretty faces, so why did it have to be mine that you’ll own?
Was it my innocence that attracted you? Or was it the sinner potential?
How lucky I thought I was, to be the one who claimed the biggest prize.
How privileged I felt, when your lusty smiles were directed to me alone.
And in some way I was lucky, but for all the wrong reasons.
You made me grow.
You taught me to hide and you taught me to lie.
You had to know I’d need it someday. Why else would you have done it?
Every time you hit me to the ground and healed my wounds, I grew even stronger.
More cunning. More resourceful. More dangerous.
Until I had beaten every man who stood in my way.
One victory more, one bullet less.
And yet I couldn’t beat you.
How do I even begin to explain that being with someone so dangerous was the last time I felt safe?
And how do I deny my own lethality when I’ve hurt so many?
But what happens when you become equally dangerous as your loved one?
Millions of paths that lied ahead suddenly shrunk. Or we grew too big? I never knew which theory pleased me more. There wasn’t enough space for both of us on the same path.
One had to fall off.
The weaker one.
I’d be lying if I said that somewhere in my subconsciousness I couldn’t see it coming.
That last time you hit me to the ground, you didn’t stay to heal my wounds again.
You didn’t hold my hand while I waited for my bones to grow back together.
You took your light and went your way, when you knew I didn’t do well in the dark.
I couldn’t beat you. And even if I could, I didn’t want to. I never wanted to let you down.
So there I was, like a blinded beast looking for a safe place to hide.
A warrior down.
You never really bothered to give my heart back.
So, naturally, I never bothered to grow a new one. I knew that someday, a new personality will take over and bring it’s own heart, and build it’s own world and I’ll be new again.
So I stole one instead.
Then another one, and another… easy prey.
I’d steal them just to burn them. I never enjoyed watching the victims suffer, I only found relief in their flames. Relief from the reality so heavy it could easily shatter my whole being.
What a happy sadistic game I played with each one of them.
They never saw it coming, until it was too late.
Everyone offered a hand, but no one lent it. Everyone wanted to know my story, but no one even paid attention.
No one ever saw me cry or knew how I really felt. No one ever will.
Cause if they do, they become the enemy in this revolutionary war I’m waging against myself…
And I don’t like wasting bullets on just anyone.
It’s far too crowded in this cell,
We are not living, we’re in hell,
When will the tables finally turn?
When will they fall, when will they burn?