The Teller of Your Time

Maybe you were meant to bring truth to all. I see the way you believe in all to do, say, wear, or breathe. People seem to be put off by you though. What is it about your unsettling facade that scares a person to the core.? Don't worry. We will misunderstand you in life and mourn and capitalize you in death. Be sure, this is what it is like for everyone. They came for you. You were meant to change us, as all those before you meant to do. They've gone. Their deaths mattered most. Not how. Not why. Upon reflection we realize your worth. We are a greedy people. We won't miss you until you are gone. You were ours. A possession to be used and abused. Once you were gone, the truth that some valuable treasure has slipped our reach will enrage us and we'll reenact your life plenty for you. As if you were here. You made the facade to protect yourself and to trick us. We only now realize the truth you can bring. As a teller of truth of your time you reveal to us a truth we resent you for. We will scorn you, hate you, and love you until it hurts. You may even die at the hand of our love. But isn't that what you wanted all along. For certain, stepping into the spotlight made you a perfect pariah of our time. Our scorn only elevates you more in death (though we won't remember it that way). We won't apologize for any rumors we fabricated and perpetuated. You chose this life. We won't apologize for what we drive you to do. We will make you ill and sick with the fame of your celebrity. Don't worry, you won't see the impact you had. Though, now that I think of it, I doubt this is what you intended. Oh well, we are in charge of your legacy. It will be much much more profitable now that you aren't in the way to muddle it up. We can venerate you to a status of sainthood while remembering the monumentous talents you shared by staking claim to them and remembering the moments you always said you did it for us. We rock ourselves to sleep remembering the love we thought you had for us before you died at our hand.