You took my pain and used it as a business opportunity.
You sold me hope wrapped in sterile language,
pushed a knife into my body and called it "treatment,"
while never once telling the whole truth.
You knew.
You knew the risks, the failure rates,
the lifelong complications, the wreckage that follows.
But that didn't matter to you.
Because every slice, every prescription,
every visit was another dollar in your goddamn pocket.
And now I live in a prison made of surgical lies--
a body that doesn't feel like mine,
a life cut in half and stitched together by people
who saw my suffering and smelled profit.
You mutilated me with a smile.
You thanked me for trusting you--
and I hate you for that.
I hate the way you pretended to care.
I hate the white coat you wear like it means integrity.
I hate the system that lets you sleep at night
while I lie awake feeling like I'm already dead.
You didn't save me.
You erased me.
If you had the guts to stand in front of me,
I'd give you silence first.
I'd let you see what your legacy looks like.
And then I'd say--
I am your consequence.
I am the echo of your lie.
I am the fury you birthed when you chose greed over truth.
And I will never forget. LIAR read more