#psychopathy
Here I had thought
Generally, each of our governments
Loved to issue & execute warrants-
Or is that merely applicable
To the poor, those with no status
Who carry no political weight
Besides their life of work?
Verdicts down on from
Supposedly the highest body
In the arbitration for justice
It's seeds of gunpowder,
To produce a foul fruit
Which kills the vine.
Bunch of psychos,
And the thoughts are dark
Because it's an empty mind.
May 28, 2024
May 28, 2024 at 11:58 AM UTC
don't be serious
you must try to smile far more
smile from ear to ear
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 4:49 PM UTC
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 son of a *****
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 son of a ***** –
At least for the most part
I am
a human-fucking-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.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC
(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.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Flowing steadily, dancing on skin-
Losing control, darkness consuming-
It drips, drops, pooling on the floor-
Scent of sin stinking and bruising...
Hemorrhaging, scratching profusely-
Shades of beautiful crimson red-
Open scars from stitches undone-
Prolonging agony and pain...
Satisfying the blood lust within-
Stingy smell of primal needs of man-
Nothing beats the euphoria felt-
Flesh opens and gore gushes out...
Regret comes only after it's done-
Washing the red stains off shaking hands-
Is it regret? Satisfaction?
Either way the deed is long done...
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
These hands of mine
Are perfectly fine
Whether I am clapping
or snapping
They are perfectly benign
Even if they can't draw a straight line
as they cut their lifelines
They serve me well
*when sending them all to hell
Even though these hands of mine
Are perfectly fine
They tend to tremble
with excitement
Whenever something seems to resemble
Blood*
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
my heart
will never be as heavy as the ones of the
children who are forced to learn the anatomy of a gun
in two seconds
flat. it doesn't matter if you believe in
god. god finds calm in
violence, god doesn't come
here, to the schools that are named after presidents and
townspeople who've done good
deeds, places
that were supposed to be
safe.
my heart
will never be as heavy as the ones of the
parents who sent their kids to
school in dresses and ironed
khakis and two little
pigtails and got them back in
body bags. there are no
flags here. no Purple Hearts
for the kids who couldn't wait long enough to find
god.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
What's happening?
My feeling is keeling
over like a rooster
Losing my sanity
All feeling's vanity.
Where's the knife?
I want to survive.
I don't want to be trapped
in this stage of insecurity
I need to let loose,
like a goose.
Blood's all over the room.
This never-ending feeling
of satisfaction
what is it?
Is this
Life?
Death?
Happiness?
Sadness?
mAdne$s?
I've forgotten how to tell.
Do I need help?
Am i in vain?
In p@in?
I'm laughing.
I can't **** stop.
Is this humor?
Horror?
My third eye
has closed
my actions
are no longer futile
the heads
hanging from the ceiling fan
are you pr0ud of me?
Mom?
Why are you quivering?
Why are you running?
"WHAT DO YOU THINK
YOU'RE DOING?
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"
That's what your lips are saying.
Why're you on the floor?
You're still breathing.
Are you sleeping?
C'mon, wake up.
cAN I pLay w!tH yOU, Too?
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Since I was born I couldn't feel
what others feel
I never had anything that was real
Actually it doesn't matter...
It was real enough to me
They told me it would be fine
but they locked me up, took what's mine
What they did turned my life into dirt
Actually it doesn't matter...
I don't feel and I can't be hurt
But one day I will myself on them avenge
****** revenge
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC