Treat me like a therapist
Until you feel embarrassed

Tell me you talk to me
Even more than your new wife

Act like it's a compliment
I know any good doctor would

Say that's unhealthy but
I am afraid of your reaction

So bite my tongue, and I listen
And then when you tell me

I remind you of your ex
You really mean I remind you

Of the one who got out from
Underneath your sweaty thumb

Unable to be controlled
And that just kills you

There it is...
I can feel it!
Something great
Is happening...

Better than any
Pill or shot.
It's so real; it...
Feels so hot!

What's this feeling?
Such emotion!
Senses reeling,
Such devotion!

No more guilt
Or remorse,
Or regret!

Finally,  my
Insanity
Is something
I GET.

Sociopathy.
I have no regrets.
But I still feel
Depression.

There's nothing left.
Just this
Aggression.

If I go to sleep
I wake up
And I weep.

But you disrespect,
And you'll wake
In the street.

The difference:
The stupid turn to violence, because they know nothing else.
The desperate turn to violence, because they tried everyyhing else.
I turned to violence, because I was born deranged with a ****** up frontal lobe.
This I think makes me an Idol for the stupid and the desperate.

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.