ERRORS OF DEMENTIA

I don’t care for your pity

so keep it to yourself

I despise you and your empathy,

I loathe your kindness.

 

I am one, I am alone

so don’t care for me because I care for none.

I am bitter and I am gay

and this is the way that I intend to stay.

 

Consumed by grief, overcome by remorse,

embittered by rage, no sight of repose.

A less than nothing, a simple nobody

I smile but my jaws ache with hypocrisy.

 

I laugh and my laughter rings hollow in my ears.

Its been years since I last cried

but inside I drown my tears.

 

Humble in my pride, I am rich in my poverty.

Cruel in my kindness, I goad myself

beyond self-pity.

 

Loathing consumes me, loathing for me alone.

For I am something beyond despicable,

and that cuts me to the bone.

 

A pervert, a leper, an object of despair,

or maybe a freak with a mind beyond repair.

Miserable in my own existence, yet loving every moment of it,

I am a genii without powers, an insignificant hobbit.

 

In sync with reality, out of sync with myself,

I’ve been cut, dried and french-fried

by this pain I just can’t express.

 

 

I’ve been skinned, skewered and butchered,

Roasted and toasted,

And yet I’ve been discarded

before even being tasted.

 

As gooey as chocolate, as bitter as gourd,

I am the reality

that just can’t be ignored.

 

I lust for my soul,

for I feel a void within me,

My angst-ridden heart is overridden by depravity.

 

I yearn for euthanasia but shrink from kamikaze

I am no more than an overused piece of clay.

 

Mindless and meaningless are words that best describe me

as they do this epithet that I lay before thee.

So burn it, trash it, discard it and then

confine me, imprison me and say Amen