I lit the match, yet I cannot put out the flames, so why must I stay, why must I slowly burn while others happily walk, the same people who noticed my flaws with their eyes like a hawk's. But they did not notice my dying soul, even with my glass eyes they did not see, they did not see the true horrors my eyes hold. The reasons for my burns remains untold. Billions of things move with life while I stand still, suffering in silence against my will. I am the one who caused my own pain, but it was people's hate that made the fire gain. People know what it is like to be me, very few but some, they know how life hurts until it becomes numb. So as I die today, know I'm not in pain, know that everyone I know has slowly taken my life away.