But then, suddenly, unexpected, deliberately
My mood changes, becomes ominous,
Dark, thunder, black,
And I become someone else.
Someone vastly different from myself,
Or maybe only then the true me
A being that never forgives, never forgets.
With no love, other than self love.
A sick, dark love.
A love of self protect, self need,
A love where everybody around me
Has no feelings or pain
Where everybody is there for me,
Like puppets on a toy cupboard's shelf
To play with slowly,
As a cat with it's paw on a mouse
That tiredly wishes for rest,
That prays for deliverance, or the end,
Even death.

Then I live only inside of myself
Against all, at the cost of all.
And then there comes the times
That there is remorse
Where clear thought and sympathy
For others break through the mist.
Where I think:
Maybe this or that isn't normal,
That the civilised wouldn't do that
Or think that.
Where even the perversion of the situation
Doesn't escape me.

But then comes the revulsion
Against the standards and the norms
Of those that have never accepted or understood me
The civilised order!
That didn't stand and shout in anger,
When my child body was misused.
The civilised ones that without shame
Sink their talons into tender feelings,
That turn away their faces
Like a Pharisee, from the Samaritan,
That begs for help and love
And a right to live.

It is then that my hate for them,
Overshadow the hate for myself,
And I revel in this alien being,
That is me.

Sunchild