Creep

Threats are love,
in this sick, twisted shell of a person.
Death wishes are a form of
self-appreciation.

Do you remember the last time
you made yourself
cry?

Was it you who made the tears,
or did the tears make you?

Insanity embraces silence,
it comforts, calms, changes you.
Falling into endless hysteria,
shredded souls scatter across for-never.

Society, man's downfall.
The demented and disturbed
are turned away with the blink of an eye,
unforgiving to the unwanted.

Whispers of forgotten memories
inject pride into my veins,
making me feel alive again.

Stand up for what you are,
even if you die in the process.
Yet is it your bullet
or theirs?

Would anybody care?
Will these questions ever be
answered?

After all, I'm
just a
creep.