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“Faith has earned me nothing but a liar’s tongue,
A child’s grief.
Promised the sacrament, but understand-
You will not save me.
You will not save me.
But you’ll consecrate me.”
You believed in Batman, in Bruce Wayne. He was bigger than life, bigger than death…until he wasn’t. Ain’t that the way it always goes with parents?
Daddy didn’t save you, but he’ll sure make you a martyr. Every moment of your life stripped of autonomy and personhood, towards the monument of Bruce’s pain.
It becomes the thing that defines Bruce, because that’s what Bruce does with pain. He puts it in a goddamn trophy case for everyone to see. Bruce doesn’t know how to be anything but ostentatious.
You came back from death, but you’re different now. You’ll never be as squeaky clean. That’s the thing about death- it cleanses all sin. Broken men will never measure up against dead boys. Dead birds.