The Same

"I tell you, it is not me yo are looking at, Not me you are grinning at, not me your confidential looks incriminate, but that other person, if person, you thought I was: let your necrophily feed upon that carcase." Let your hatred beat that body of shame and regret, let your whip of animosity thrash at the soft tender skin of that wrinkled, phamaldahide injected, coat of flesh. For I am none of that, I am you. Not you in thought or action but you in a physical sense. I don't let your figurative chastisement and literal bludgeoning, ensnare my pride. My pride is too great. Your attempts to belittle me, only make me larger. Instead of casting your witchcraft on me in-order to make me a toad, I become an elephant thus making you a toad in relation to me. The irony is that in an attempt to diminish me, you make yourself smaller. Your hostile words, cut downs, and insults, only knock on the door of your own conscious, they only incriminate yourself. So now you should realize that it is no longer I who is being whipped but rather I became the whipper, the feeder, and the bludgeoner of your conscious and your pride.  Trying to darken my life only taints your own. Now can't you see we are all the same, hurt by our action or the actions of others, either way we are both hurt.