I am as meek as a rabbit;

The embodiment of shyness
Like a nun who took a vow of silence
I am not looked at any other way
Except a girl who's face is gray
But if only people knew,
If only people looked through,
The keyhole to my imagination,
They would think I am a creation
Of the devil himself

I may no speak, but trust me
I am more predacious than you believe.

don't be serious
you must try to smile far more
smile from ear to ear

I contend
That I have
Never
Hated the guts
Of another human being

For the guts
Are not
Responsible for
The actions
Taken by their host

Nor are they at fault
For the decisions
Made by the mind
Of a madman

The humble guts
Are only but
Organs with purpose:
Digestion
And continuation
Of life.

I have
Never exclaimed
“The nerve
of some people!”

For the nerves
are merely devices
through which
a person
may harness
the sense of
feeling

But some people
Go on
Through life
Without feeling
Things like
Remorse
Humility
Pain
Emotion of any kind

I pity them
And I ponder
I envy them
At times
And
I am fascinated
By them

Sometimes
Pity crosses with
Envy
And I ponder again
Intrigued –
All three.

I wish to know
How to be
A wretch
A *****
A *******
A criminal
An *******
A licentious *****
A nuisance
A mean *******
But feel nothing at all

I want to know what it’s like to be cold and callous and without regret or remorse
Without a single ******* care in the whole entire world

But all I can do is speculate
That it is
Unlike anything;
Just like nothing at all:

Emptiness without knowing what fulfillment is
The coldness of not knowing the definition of temperature
The hardness of living life as compressed carbon atoms also known as diamond but without knowing I am or feeling like a jewel

I may not quite myself be a gem
But I can feel
I can hear loud and clear
I love to be whole
I love to be warm
I love to love
Because I am not a wretch
I am not a *****
I am not a *******
I am not a criminal
Or an *******
Or a licentious *****
Or a nuisance
Or a mean, cold ******* –
At least for the most part

I am
a human-*******-being
And I will never try
To be anything but.

It was
Never guts
It was always,
Is,
And forever will be
Folks with their heads up their butts
And brains in the drains
Who waste
Our precious air
And time.

One can certainly say
They feel it there
But alas
That is not
Where
The choice is made
Nor is that feeling
What upon
the action is taken.

One should not hate
Another one’s guts and nerves –
It should be
The mind within the brain
Who takes all the blame;
Everyone else is just doing their jobs.

(n.   a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence)

Maybe it's the thrill of adventure that lures you-
The thought of getting caught red-handed,
The feeling of flesh parting and revealing,
The spray of fresh warm blood on your skin.

Maybe it's a thirst that spur you forward-
The need for the adrenaline rushes,
The desire for vengeance or payback,
The want to fulfill your deep blood lust.

And so it happens, swing after swing after swing-
Ruptured veins and crimson staining your vision and soul-
As hateful and warm as the hell you know you'll burn in-
Come what may, you think, as you fall and the kuebiko settles in.