Blind Hatred for Those Who Bleed

Devoid Disgust and Disembodiment.
Those are the emotions I feel when you look at me
Scariness is what I like.
Those are the emotions I feed to you through my dreams.
All your fake smiles and intriguing glances make me feel like you give a damn.
I do not see the strings that you hold to make this puppet dance.
I dance for your amusement.
I dance for your friendship.
I dance for you.
You only look.
You do not enjoy it.
You think I am acting foolish for myself.
You have stripped down every last emotion from me just to watch me bleed.
I have heard you say you will be there for me,
but where are you now?
I hate the way you make me feel.
I hate that I feel like you want me to.
Just a puppet dancing...

I once told you I loved you.
I told you again I loved you.
I would do anything to never see a frown on your face.
That look of disappointment on your face is like a dagger in my side.
I told you once more I loved you and you laughed.
How can you laugh?
What makes a person laugh?
"I love you" is funny?
Said in the sincerest ways and just brushed aside like I am dancing again?
I was not dancing.
I am tired of dancing.

I am so sick right now I want to vomit.
The bucket is too far and I have not eaten in days.
The feeling from anxiety hitting a brick wall of disappointment.
It feels like someone has uppercut me in the stomach.
Left me for dead.
Left me to rot.
Left me for the vultures to pick the flesh from my bones.
No one waits for anyone.
The realization is crippling.
To go into a world were everyone is there.
When you show up to the train station and no one stands there but yourself.
This journey must be gone alone.
The way one builds character is by themselves.
The way one brings himself back from the dead is Hope.
The fiendish little word called Hope kills more than revives.

How much Hope can one person hold on to?
When you get to the end of the rope and think there is none left.
You slip another inch down and wish it would end.
Why can't you have both hands on the rope?
Where are your friends to lend a hand?
Why is the pit you are in so Black?
Black as night.
Black as fear.
Black as death holding your fate in his scary, pale hands.
You don't udder a word.
The pain grips you and fear makes you unable to breath.
You close your eyes and Hope this isn't happening.
You open your eyes and realize it is truth.
Truth to fix yourself and become whole.
The one being you have always striven to be...
You can be him once and you can be him forever.
You just have to reach up with your other hand.

Feelings can only be experienced, not described.
You can't tell someone how disappointed you are because they don't understand.
You can't tell them that the betrayal you have gone through makes you hate them.
You can't tell them that you hate their smile.
You don't hate their smile though.
You hate EVERYONE'S smile.
Not a genuine one among any of them.
The wish for a crowbar to wreck their pretty faces will not be answered.
Garments to be soaked in gasoline and a spark to be given is also not answered.
Perhaps when they go home tonight a stray dog will maul them to death.
The thought of a throne high on a mountain...
The view looking down on the world getting mauled by vicious dogs...
Pleasure has reached your mind but you don't smile.
You can't smile.
They pull your strings and you dance.
You can't tell them anything is wrong.
That you hate them
You hate them all and want to bash their heads into the brick wall.
Horrible feelings brought on by a smile.

Fake people only in it for themselves.
Pleasing themselves and not caring about anyone else.
From the youngest of ages we are distilled values.
These are to better ourselves when we get older.
No one ever tells their child it is to mindfuck them when they grow up.
Mindfuck them into knowing morals.
When a heart is broken, morals no longer exist.
It can't be fixed.
Once a broken heart bleeds, it stays broken.
I can not do anything to you in this lifetime so I will feel you your strings.
Pull them as much as you want.
You will sleep.
I will get to sleep then.
You won't want me to sleep.
I think dark thoughts.
Thoughts without smiles.
Thoughts without happiness.
Thoughts of murder, suicide, and pain.
When I sleep, promise me you will not watch me.
If you watch me you will see the smirk.
It starts and ends with my lips.
The ones with the fake smile.
The lift on one end and form a smirk.
Not a smile, but a smirk.
Pleasure is met in my mind and you now know that.
Turn the lights off tonight and try to put yourself to sleep...
You can't sleep though knowing I might be smiling...