The World is a Fucking Torture Chamber
The world is a fucking torture chamber,
endless videos of shlock horror porn,
or, actually, it's more subtle than that,
endless cubicles of particleboard,
computer screens, perfunctory greetings.
I see people and I want to sodomize, rape them,
kill them in their sleep, or wake them up,
just to see the surprise and terror on their stupid faces
and to puncture their flesh to see the contortions of pain.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?