I can try to ignore the calluses etched into my palms, the ones that have pushed back several layers of skin. I can soften their hardened texture—roughened by soaking in rock salt and turned to stone. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and you know this well. Until now, I’ve done everything in my power to protect your long fur, your soft skin, and your cheeks salted from crying. I’ve kept you away from the truth, from pain and chaos. And even though you always knew a war was happening somewhere, you chose to ignore everything with those eyes that carry the soul of a cat.

Of course, you knew what you might face—what could crush and shatter you, what could leave your shell defenseless and seep inside. But I was there beside you, the massive, mythological creature who could protect you. Only I know I’m not as grand as the tales say. I’m aware of the limits of my strength and soul—or perhaps I’m still searching for them, afraid to admit the truth to you.

If you ever face my truth, remember to forgive me. Remember what I did for you and all I gave up for your sake. Don’t forget the long sentences and vivid descriptions I wove so we could be the heroes of a short story. A few lines have always been enough for me. To express myself to you or anyone else, I’ve always chosen simple, concise phrases. You know well how much long, tangled, inverted sentences bore me—how I’ve never wanted to go down a path that leads to meaninglessness. You know me at least this well; at least this part of my truth is familiar to you.

I can’t free you from the evolutionary shell that protects you, but I can design you new, safe garments. I can give you a home and a few sharp tools. I can provide just enough for you to get by—and in doing so, I can save the thing I care about most in life. I can touch you more gently than I do others, strike with softer, silkier fists. I won’t let you bleed. But I will expect you to believe my lies.



June, 2025 by Demon Ego