Letting Go

A temporary solution to a permanent problem, you say?
A temporary solution is just fine to me when no permanent solution is in sight.
I have no regrets for my actions.
In the morning, my hands will be clean.
And the blood that coats them now belongs to no one but me anyway.
It's a mere victimless crime, save for the self.
But it was the self who was the victim in the first place.
It is the self who is the victim now.
And it is the victim who seeks respite.
Who are you to deny him that?
Who are you to judge that which you do not understand.
You who have never carried this weight.
You who stand steadfast on the precipice of prescribed, self-righteous morality.
Cast your stone.
I'm already too numb to feel it.
This is my reward.