Librettos of Lily

I would rather bear the weight of infinite disappointment, let torment wrap itself around me like a lover scorned, and endure the merciless torture of my soul for the things I unknowingly dragged down from their celestial heights. Punish me, break me, shatter me into a thousand irreparable fragments—anything, anything but the unbearable sight of the light leaving your eyes. Anything but the cruel burden of telling the tale of your end to the amber hearts of the past, the ones who would listen with pity and sorrow, their faces etched with the same grief I’d carry forever.

I would rather turn around and face the demons I’ve hidden from, let them claw at the marrow of my weary bones, let them carve fear into my flesh and whisper my failures into the hollows of my mind. I would rather be laid bare to the monsters I’ve birthed in my darkness than allow you to step past the gates of my crumbling castle. You must never see what lies within.

For what would you find? Ruins. Twisted remnants of once-proud towers, now overgrown with the vines of regret and despair. A throne made of false charm and fractured glass, cutting anyone who dares approach. No, you cannot witness me like this, stripped of the illusions I wear so carefully. You cannot confront the chaos that lives in my shadow, the wreckage of a soul too tarnished to save.

Better I face the horrors alone. Better I shield you from the truth of what I am, even if it means I burn in the process. Because if you were to stand before me in my ruin, gazing at the brokenness I’ve tried so desperately to hide, I fear the pain of that moment would undo me far more than any demon ever could.

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I would rather bear the weight of infinite disappointment, let torment wrap itself around me like a lover scorned, and endure the merciless torture of my soul for the things I unknowingly dragged down from their celestial heights. Punish me, break me, shatter me into a thousand irreparable fragments—anything, anything but the unbearable sight of the light leaving your eyes. Anything but the cruel burden of telling the tale of your end to the amber hearts of the past, the ones who would listen with pity and sorrow, their faces etched with the same grief I’d carry forever.

I would rather turn around and face the demons I’ve hidden from, let them claw at the marrow of my weary bones, let them carve fear into my flesh and whisper my failures into the hollows of my mind. I would rather be laid bare to the monsters I’ve birthed in my darkness than allow you to step past the gates of my crumbling castle. You must never see what lies within.

For what would you find? Ruins. Twisted remnants of once-proud towers, now overgrown with the vines of regret and despair. A throne made of false charm and fractured glass, cutting anyone who dares approach. No, you cannot witness me like this, stripped of the illusions I wear so carefully. You cannot confront the chaos that lives in my shadow, the wreckage of a soul too tarnished to save.

Better I face the horrors alone. Better I shield you from the truth of what I am, even if it means I burn in the process. Because if you were to stand before me in my ruin, gazing at the brokenness I’ve tried so desperately to hide, I fear the pain of that moment would undo me far more than any demon ever could.

BY Librettos of Lily