Pity is met with disgust.
An ugly wrinkling of the nose.
How fucking dare they?
I wanted pity as a child,
Equating it with love.
Or kindness.
Now I know better.
I don’t want anyone’s pity.
I was cursed,
In blood and name.
Survived a thousand trials,
Still living.
How dare you dishonor my struggle?
My survival against all odds?
No.
Your pity is saliva,
Ejected on the ground at my feet.
Support.
Loyalty.
Honor.
I want far more than your pity,
Could ever give me.
Cursed In Blood & Name.
