The Lonely Painter

The Lonely Painter

I yearn for pain
I yearn for darkness
Sometimes I have a disgraceful envy of those less fortunate
Envy of those half dead, frostbitten, pitiful hobos
Envy of the severely impoverished, the mentally distressed, the physically incapable
What does this say of me?

Locked doors, windows shut, curtains closed
I isolate myself seeking the deepest darkness this cruel world can offer
I need the unfathomable pain that causes one to break
I need to cry, to shiver, to scream in pain
I need to find it
Where are you?

I see pain every day, all around me
I see it in people I will never know
I see it in my closest of loved ones
It is indiscriminate in its distribution
Yet still it eludes me
Why are you so kind to me?

Strike me because of these disgraceful words I speak
Force upon me the unbearable
I want to feel true horror
Hang me off the precipice of living hell
Let me feel the terror of the heat burning upon me
I implore of you, I beg of you

I know the disgust of which I speak
I long for the outrage these words could cause
For I know joy is unanimously chosen over pain