The Villian and the Hero

I spoke, but my words were twisted. I reached out, but my hands were slapped away. I stood still as the world rewrote me, turning my silence into sin. You called me cruel when I walked away, though you never asked why I left. You painted me in shadows, never questioning the light that cast them. Maybe I was never meant to be the hero. Maybe I never wanted to be. But no one ever asks for my side— because you will always be the villain when the hero is telling the story.