This too shall pass

Herida es más inteligente.
O interesante.
Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path; for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down.
And I still hurt.
For every minute I´ve spend laying in the dark next to you, I hurt.
For every time I´ve turn myself into a joke for you.
For every scar that runs down my body.
For every time I remember you. For how I grind my teeth every time I hear your name.
Because I can´t feel worthy.
Because I am atonement.
I hurt.
I am pain.
I´ve repeated to myself those words so many times that now I actually believe them.
Because I am not pure.
I´ve been cruel.
Mean.
I´ve hurt others. Tears, flesh, blood. Their wounds and scars are the silent witnesses of my doing. Of my footpints in the dark.
And now all the ghosts of my sins come back and hunt me in the night.
But I can´t close my eyes yet. Not good enough for life, too rotten for hell, so I am trapped in this limbo.
But I will live to see one more day.
Because my name is pain and my blood is revenge.