Weary and maybe dusty,
maybe a million years old.
Disappearing.
Shouting hatespeech
and trying to make others
as bitter as myself.
Toxic and made of stone.

Crafted of some **** harder than diamond,
but cheaper than ****. Also, I'm so *******
sick of hearing about hope in the human soul.
I'm sick of souls.
Cynicism isn't right,
but being ****** isn't lying,
and maybe we all have a little bit
of love and something else.
Exploit whatever feels better.

Maybe I said that wrong,
but if you can exploit yourself
you're the only one who deserves
to ******* do it already.