The world inside my mind is on fire. They’re running, screaming, begging and I’m lying down with my popcorn ready to watch it all burn.
The truth hurts. If they really wanted me to speak then they should have realised they’d have to suffer the consequences. My words don’t fit into their nice little narrative, there’s no hero in our story, only demons, lies and secrets that won’t go untold.
You can’t close Pandora’s box my friends, the damage is already done. Maybe they shouldn’t have ever picked up that pen, a lunatic is more acceptable than a biographer that speaks in cold blood.