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Ah, yes... this is a poem. It's about hatred of the self and others, which is often the same thing. It's about continued pain, and the hope that it will end, though suspecting it never will. I tend not to write poetry, as a rule, because poetry almost always come out contrived. With that in mind, please, continue.
Anger of You
I hate the part of me That is you I HATE the part of me That is you I want you to Suffer I want you to Wish you were dead I want to feel you In agony You will burn I will feel Like a sickness Has passed When you are charred But alive When you are hurt I will survive Your pain And smile As you writhe I can be as petty As you Because you Are a part of me I will feel your suffering I will survive you. Feb 28, 1998 CMSWilliston |
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