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Tom Cooney Jul 2017
The room before you begs explanation,
so let me assuage your consternation,
and try to imagine if you can,
that despite the scene before you,
I am not a hateful man.

You see my startled listener,
I'm a man like most you'd meet,
I have to wake, and sleep, and eat,
but those needs are never the sum,
some men must build, some father sons,
some men must paint or write their stories,
or do great things to gain their glory,
but there are those with less noble needs,
who infest the garden of man like weeds,
these awful men must take their hurt,
and work it deep into the dirt,
they choke the garden blooming bright,
and hide their crimes from their fellows' sight.

All men suffer, as I'm sure you know,
but some men do not keep their woe,
some awful men must spread their pain,
for they cannot bear the weight and strain,
these weaker men seek out the kind,
the soft of heart and calm of mind,
they think they have a right you see,
to hurt the sweet and call them weak.

That's what this blood is from, you see,
for no-one hurts in front of me.
Tom Cooney Dec 2022
Agony is firm,
eternal, pure and clear,
it's quite good friends with Patience,
and comes from Yesteryear.
It lounges at your bedside,
and curls up by the fire,
it follows you to market,
and bed when you retire.
Agony is lazy.
It doesn't do a thing.
It stays beside you always,
and doesn't mind time's sting.
You might just think it breaks you,
or shatters through your mind,
but Agony's not Fury,
it left the heat behind.
See, people think it's vicious,
they think it wants them dead,
but it only really wants,
to live inside your head.
It simply stays in place,
and lets you ponder it,
til there is nothing else,
and your soul just ******* splits.
Tom Cooney Nov 2014
I limp to my corner,
to curl up and sleep,
to give these gouges,
these wounds,
these rips in not just my body,
but my self,
time to heal.
...
I think of the cowards,
the weaklings,
the things that ought to be my prey,
whose cruel mischief I suffer,
whose idiocy I tolerate,
whose limbs I have yet to rip from them,
though I forget why I've not done that...
And I wonder why I let this go on.
...
Why do I tolerate this?
Why don't I return harm with harm?
Why don't I tear into the fools in return?
Am I not a Beast?
Am I not Strong?
Is it really so wrong as I was taught to hurt others?
Do I have to be selfless?
Do I have to act like a Man?
Would that make me, "good"?
Does being a Beast make me, "bad"?
Is my nature repulsive?
Abhorrent?
Abominable?
...
Am I an Evil thing, regardless of my actions?
Am I truly Evil within myself anyways?
...
Why do I bother?
Why do I restrain myself?
Is it because I ought to?
Or is it because I was taught to?
Have I never truly known what it is to be myself?
Have I always struggled against my nature?
...
I think I have...
I think I've never actually let myself...be myself.
Well...
Maybe it's time to truly be a Beast.
Tom Cooney Mar 2023
Ravaged,
ruined,
rotted,
I sit here now besotted,
for all that I have done,
all the good I've wrought,
is over gone and done,
my work has been for naught.

This day I leave the light,
and journey through the night,
my heart has been destroyed,
I sink now to the void,
and lay me down to sleep,
where demons stalk and creep.

My hardship pain and woe,
leave marks upon my bones,
my friends of youth now gone,
I truly don't belong,
In venom I abide,
my shadow comes alive.

I carried pain and heartache,
harmlessly though the years,
I soured my mind and body,
and overflowed with tears,
but never have I slipped,
no never have I slain.
I fear though in this moment,
I won't claim so again.
Tom Cooney Jan 2014
We all have our demons.
But they aren't all the same.
It's our demons that make us different from others.
Some are bigger,
some are stronger,
some are faster,
but we all at least have a few.
You can deal with them one of two ways;
you beat your demons down and never let them have any power.
This is the, "safe" option.
This is the way that people think is ALWAYS the best option.
To the point that they can't even think of the other option as viable.
The other option?
Embrace them.
Make use of them.
Let them have JUST enough control to help power you, to help keep you running.
And then put them in their place.
It takes SO much effort,
and SO much practice,
but it's worth it completely.
The Wisdom one can gain experiencing Pride,
the Love one can learn to appreciate after Lust,
the drive that Wrath can give you,
the Motivation one can have to fight off Sloth,
The Selflessness that comes with analyzing Envy,
the Generosity that can come with learning how horrible Greed is,
the need for Moderation that experiencing Gluttony can give you.
They bring knowledge,
understanding,
strength.
They don't INTEND to,
but you're strong enough to make them.
Tom Cooney Jul 2016
Even evil is divine.
Destruction, death, ruin, it's all part of the natural order the same as life and love.
So why do people see those things as evil instead of just...normal?
Normal doesn't make any sense anyways. Normal for a deer is eating plants, normal for a wolf is killing and eating a deer.
Killing's not bad. Nothing's, "bad", some things just don't do certain things, and only people have actually got the idiotic idea that anything THEY don't do must be, "bad".
We all have our place in the natural order. Predators, Prey, so on and so forth.
Just because I'm surrounded by Prey doesn't mean it's, "evil" for me to Hunt...reality isn't a democracy, and if I can **** the Prey that call my kind so evil...why shouldn't I?
Someday, this useless, dead hulk of a country I live in is going to finally die, and a lot of people are gonna die without ME ever having to bother them at all. Soon as folk can't just microwave their food, there'll be a lot of people that can't feed themselves anymore.
But the ones that get past the initial crash...they'll be interesting. And they'll make for the most fun Prey out there.
I can't wait to chase them...
They'll tell me what I'm doing is evil.
"Hush little one, there's no evil here. Only Hunger."
Tom Cooney Feb 2014
I finally finished.
I put myself back together.
Piece by piece,
hour by hour,
tear by tear,
I am whole again.
And now,
like a glass vase,
I must sit still,
never moving,
ever quiet,
And hope that some childish person doesn't come along.
Because I don't want to be broken again.
Tom Cooney Dec 2014
I've never been capable of true Hate,
It's not a part of who I am, what I am,
I can be Enraged for a time, but it burns off,
so now I wonder, as you push me away and stab me,
as you revile and curse me,
do I Hate you?

I don't feel Rage for you,
I don't want to tear the flesh from your bones,
I don't want to rend your body asunder,
but I still feel like I dislike you,
though it is definitely more than that.

I think I may finally know what it is to Hate.

To be reviled, distrusted,
to not be cared for,
to be in every way rejected,
though I show nothing but good towards you,
I think that has made me feel Hate for you.

It is not hot like my Rage, it is cold,
It is not swift like my Rage, it is slow,
It is not impermanent like my Rage, it is lasting,
And I think I'm okay with that.

So yes, I Hate you. And I almost want to thank you for teaching me what that means.

Almost.
Tom Cooney Dec 2022
You put hooks through my shoulders,
and hung me like a ham,
you cut and sliced and burned me,
and hacked out who I am.

And when I clambered down,
and sought a path anew,
I tried to hide but couldn't,
from the hooks in my sinew.

Is my pain from metal,
yet embedded in my flesh,
or is it just the memory,
that wounds me now afresh?

Someday I will be free,
of your hateful love's black chains,
at least I know for sure,
I'll not be hooked again.
Tom Cooney Jan 2016
I want to Hunt.
I want to find Prey, and take from it, the way Predators have done since time immemorial.
Beasts like me are meant to Hunt, not sit around and play pretend that we're Prey, or are just there to be guard dogs for them against, "bad people".
I don't want to be subjugated by Prey animals because of their opinions on how a Beast should act when I am perfectly capable of breaking every bone in the hand they're using to stick their finger in my face.
I tire of being bossed about by Prey and by Weak Beasts. I tire of being limited based on fantastical versions of reality in which there are no Predators. What angers me most is that there's enough Weaklings that are willing to defend the Prey that I can't have at any of them without being locked in a cage or killed. By my OWN KIND.
Someday soon, when the laws of Men fail, and We the People are forced to fend for themselves...they will remember that the Predators are still there.
When the laws of Nature that Prey thought they could hide from come, yet again, into effect- they will remember.
And they will wish that they had hidden more carefully.
Tom Cooney Feb 2014
Masks,
we all wear them,
at least from time to time.
Don't try to deny it.
That girl who seems cheery all the time,
who always has a jacket on, or a sweater,
to hide the cuts,
and more importantly,
her Mask.
The little kid who sits alone at lunch,
who, "just isn't social",
because if he plays with others,
they'll see the bruises,
the beatings will show through.
Again, always wearing a jacket or somesuch,
but again,
more importantly,
his Mask.
Me,
me, who barely gets by,
without just exploding,
and hurting those he loves,
and wants to just be able to be STABLE,
just to see what it feels like.
I wear my faded jeans,
my gloves, to hide the bloodied knuckles,
from just punching whatever's at hand,
my boots,
to keep my toes breaking when I kick things,
but most importantly,
my Mask.
Tom Cooney Jun 2014
All my life,
I've ignored,
I've shrugged off,
I've tried to forget,
pain.

I've cried,
and bled,
and raged and screamed,
at and for the world,
and everyone,
and everything,
and now I just hurt.

I always said,
"Pain is temporary.",
that it doesn't matter,
that I'll get over it,
that I'm really all right.

Yeah, "all right".

We all do this,
in one way,
or another,
and we're all killing ourselves,
with our own stubbornness.

Maybe one day,
the pain will finally be enough,
to wake us up.
Tom Cooney Jan 2014
Powerless
I can't
move
I can't
speak
I can't
stand
I can't
walk
I can't
cry
I can't
help
for the first time
I can't even...
help people.
Normally
I can
help others
even when
I feel bad myself
but now
I can't do anything
and it's not my fault
but I can't make myself believe that...
Tom Cooney Feb 2014
Rage,
the only constant,
always there,
just beneath the surface,
waiting.
Waiting,
to pounce,
to maul,
to ****.
I don't let it.
Well,
I don't let it hurt OTHERS,
but energy is energy,
it has to be burned off,
so it pounces,
it mauls,
it kills,
me.
Me,
the only one who suffers,
so that everyone else,
can live more happily,
it's a sacrifice,
one I make every day.
But...some days...
Why?
I wonder why I make that sacrifice.
And then I think,
about the charnel battlefields,
the rolling hills of men once living,
the terrors that are my birthright,
and I remember.
I will die from this someday.
I won't be able to contain it any more,
and I WILL die.
But I will not falter.
I may have a monster inside of me,
but I am NOT a monster.
Tom Cooney Feb 2014
Rest
that's all I want.
I don't mean sleep,
that I can manage.
My body will shut down for 8 hours at a time,
and my body will be ready to do another day's worth of work.
But my mind won't reset.
Why can't I just rest?
I just want recovery,
respite,
a break, for God's sake.
WHAT WON'T LET ME REST?!
I've got all day to think on it.
And I think it's you.
I think my mind
more, my heart,
can't go on without you.
Or...something like that...
I can't figure it out.
I know you don't love me,
you said as much,
but I feel like I need you anyways.
It doesn't make sense,
and I hate it with every fiber of my body,
but it's how it is.
I want it FIXED!
...
I just want to rest...
Tom Cooney Jan 2014
Breaks are never really clean.
You never get that
perfect break
where nothing is really damaged, just split.
Like anything perfect, they don't exist.
You can never really
avoid the pain of a break
especially when it splinters.
Though, it always splinters.
Though again, some breaks are worse than others
And you may not KNOW what to do about it.
It's not always obvious.
There's usually not an easy answer.
But you can find one.
Just give yourself enough time
enough energy
and you can find an answer to anything.
So I'm splintered all to hell right now,
but I'll find a way to fix it someday.
Tom Cooney Nov 2014
Why can't I stop hurting myself? Am I hurting myself, or is everyone else hurting me and I blame myself? Am I sane? I don't know how to stop hurting. Why do I hurt? Do I hurt because of something I did? Do I deserve this? Is it a punishment? No, I don't think so, that wouldn't make much sense...hmm...is it because of some part of Nature that just means I won't stop subjecting myself to pain because hurting is a part of me? Experiencing the pain others might otherwise deal with and keeping it caged in myself? It certainly seems to be what I've built myself to be. chuckles A sponge. That's what I'm like. A pain sponge. Is that good? Is that bad? Is that helpful to anyone? Is it even good for or helpful to me? I dunno. It seems to make sense. I don't think about it though, and most things can make sense if you don't think about them...when am I eating? What am I eating? Man, I'm hungry...I should go and get some of that cake out of the kitchen. Will that help me feel full? Maybe...Hmm...I wonder if I should talk to Karl...he might notice if I texted him...I could see if we could hang out...eh, we never end up hanging out except when he texts. I'll just sit here for a while longer. Hmm...I wonder what music sounds good right now. Let's think...Hollywood Undead? Eh, I can't think of any songs from them right now...Imagine Dragons? Mrrrrrr maybe. Probably not. Whatever. I guess I'll sit here a little longer...do I want to take a walk? I've not left the house in a while...I could do with some fresh air, maybe...or maybe not. I dunno. I just kinda wanna feel better. How would I go about feeling better? What's the best way to stop feeling so ******? Would google have any suggestions? I doubt it...******, why does my mom want so much of me? Well, she doesn't really want that much...or maybe she does and I tell myself she doesn't? Or does she not and I tell myself she does? Did I say those right? Do I care? I dunno. I kinda wanna sleep. I think I'm gonna go have that cake and go to bed. Do I want some milk with my cake? Yeah, maybe some milk...Maybe I could just sleep...I bet I'll stop feeling so bad if I sleep...
Tom Cooney Jan 2014
We all walk.
Just walk.
And walk,
and walk,
and walk.
And someday,
we'll finally get to stop.
We tell ourselves that,
as cracks run up our legs,
like we're made of glass.
Wait, we all are.
And then we go back to walking.
Until that one day,
somewhere in the future,
where it can all stop.
Tom Cooney Jul 2015
There are two wolves inside all men.
There is one that is Jealousy, Selfishness, Rage, and all other terrible things.
There is one that is Honor, Peace, Wisdom, and all other good things.
Or at least that's how the saying goes.
That saying also says that those two wolves fight, and the one that wins is the one that you feed.
Well, here's the problem with that-
If the Beast is the size of Fenris, the Godslaying Warg of indescribable power...It's not gonna matter for anything how much you feed that White Wolf.
That White Wolf is gonna use all the energy it gets from the food you give it just to keep itself away from the Beast, dodging its assault.
The White Wolf can't fight the Beast. It can survive the Beast. That's all it's gonna manage.
So, when you're trying to be that White Wolf, and you're trying to keep up with the giant, slavering Beast that wants nothing more than to ****, eat, and forget you, the same as it wants to do with anything else- sometimes you wonder why you keep evading the Beast.
Because it hurts so much from the exhaustion and the burdens that feeding yourself place on you that you don't know if you WANT to keep moving.
Is there really anything wrong with just...laying down...relaxing...letting it all end?
After all...the poor Beast over there just wants to eat...and he's been starving as long as I've been alive...
Tom Cooney Jul 2017
Words are such a fun, strange tool,
although they have too many rules...
Some words are big, some words are small,
exorbitant, violet, and tall!

See? Words are fun,
and if you're clever,
they might aid you,
in your endeavors.

For there are MANY words to use,
like happy, joyous,
hurt, or bruised?

The clever find the perfect spots,
to twist their words,
but not in knots.

Being strong is fine,
and wise is swell,
but being smart is key as well.

If you can fight,
or quote great verse,
but create nothing,
what's it worth?

Though some people are great and kind,
in case they're not...strengthen your mind.
Not everything is crucial practice,
but every weak man surely lacks this.
Tom Cooney Aug 2017
O'er the waking world, the sun doth rise,
bringing light to wake'ning eyes,
warming fields and mountains high,
and dawning hope unto the sky.

The beasts of earth yawn, stand, and stretch,
and think of food they might go fetch,
while birds soar high and seek their meal,
and on and on turns natue's wheel.

The wolf pack runs and catches prey,
they lay to rest the sick and grey,
the deer will eat the grass he feeds,
thus even he aids his prey's needs.

Every day a life may end,
never to be lived again,
this doesn't stop this world's fair beasts,
they run and swim, they fly and eat.

The strongest beast that we can know,
hates and preys on man alone,
all others **** from need to eat,
they seek their prey for juicy meat.

This one gnaws upon one's soul,
until the self is gaped with holes,
while careless beasts enjoy the land,
Worry robs true life from man.

— The End —