this piece is to be said as aggressively as possible without stopping, only a sharp directed breath may interrupt





Sam the ******
I remember the first time someone called me that
I didn't even know what it meant
But I walked away from it
Carrying in me, like a violated orchard, seeds of Hate

It must have been middle school
Way back when everybody was trying to be cool
Packs of brown skinned wolves hunting away my innocence
Wearing away at a, soon to be ruined, patience

I told my mom what people call me
And she didnt blink
Well what did you do to them?
That question rocked me
And fractures gave introduction to faults that would never find meeting

Mercantile in nature, fearful but loyal
Friends I may or may not have had kept me inside myself and corporeal
But I was a teenage solider
I hated myself for fear of affirming, the notion that I was no longer a controller
I hated, and that was the story

For a time anyways
I had no god, no group, guru
Who could teach me to grow and perhaps love
But that word tore everything I tried to learn to shreds

Sam the ******! Theyd yell whenever they knew my skin was crawling
And all I had were crutches and journal to keep that big bad wolf at bay
Each brick I lay became ash
Every star I counted became a nova
My white crippled wings became leather

I could have recited thousands of mantras
Ate a million crackers
Sang a hundred hymns
But hate was in my heart

My short comings and any kind of flaw
Was not a burden to be lifted
It was a fire that kept me warm and sane

Every voice in me said to be vengeful
Many said to stand against the wolves
And a few sometimes said to love
But I was an ant fighting the sun

And the only way to live was to hate

Not the way of redneck rhetoric
But the kind that made me a social heretic
Stay by the flames I would ponder
This weak skin will burn away and no longer wander

I had to become the iron clad infrastructure of my own life
To straighten up, tighten, and become repellent
Like the skin stretched tight across the war drum that was my young heart

I will stand resolute, and triumphant
Foster my hate into purpose
A heart colored black, to fight against wolves numbering in the hundreds
Armed with a new weapon of strength, forged fresh from the furnace

Hate was my god, it saved me
While others pitifully succumbed to theirs
Like Acheron, it ferried Sam the ****** to safety
I learned to hate equally and with cause to quench the burning with pause

Language became my sword and my shield
The deadly omnipotent airblade that could keep me alive
Even when all I wanted was to die
I wont be happy until everything is dead! Said Sam the Fagggot
But The Melting Man inside me was the inhabitant

Of this mind
That would hate in the defense of those who are weak
Which would always loathe those who let miasma make them meek
I was a cracked churchbell who would ring to free the ears clogged with ignorance
And my hands would wipe away the blinding tar of intolerance

It wasnt until I thought myself a poet would I know
Hate was an archaic riptide that killed the minds of many with its violent flow
Sam the ****** was a beast, something akin to a weapon
And I had learned to dismantle it and leave deadened