Sociopath Community

2. The younger years

The naïveté of youth, it skipped over me like God’s angels at the first Passover. Not the feast, but the killing of the first born sons. It wasn’t for me. I’m not the one. I’m a girl, so I can’t be the first born son. I was born with knowledge of the evils of this world. I was born knowing that this was my he**.

From the beginning I knew, this was not what I wanted to do. To agree to participate in this system is to believe we have no choice. We just exist in a system created by fools and of course the clueless think that it’s cool.

I knew though. From the start, I knew. I knew that I’d never agree with you. I knew that I needed at least one parent, but this system took them both away and I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t stand it. I fell so hard that my feet almost broke when I landed.

I started out so kind and sad, but when I realized where I was, who was there, and why they got mad, I turned evil, cynical and bad. I started hurting people just because I was angry and hurting and wanted to see that they were not even worthy.

I poked and prodded and caused a schism. I hurt and I hurt, until they fell into a prism. The prism was a prison, they just didn’t know it. I trapped them like cattle just as the system does, without even a small battle. They cried and cried and called on me, to wipe the tears from their eyes and praise me for my disguise.

They didn’t know I hurt them, they couldn’t tell it was me, but all along, inside, I could feel I was losing me. Who I was, who I wanted to be. It was dying so fast, I could hardly see, but I knew that each time I did this, it hurt mostly me because I knew I was the one who caused all their pain, yet they loved me more, not even the same. I used them and used them until I could tell that I was definitely going to he**. 

I sat back and watched as the world went on, not knowing how ravenous of a beast I had become, but loving me as their own, as a saint who no one has known. As a princess, a queen, or even just a celebrated dean. I fed off of their pain and it drove me insane. Insane with power and pleasure, it caused me to see that I was not even close to being me.

The kindness I had, the will to help all. It left me like the people in the Miamidade mall. They fled the demons, or fallen angels, or interdimentional creatures. Never looking back, except to see the progress of their escape. As they did, so did I. I went and saw what it was like to get high.

I explored my brain and the world in a way that didn’t allow me to be tame. It set me free to be who I always was. I just needed to start over and figure out what was different, what had changed, and what was needed to get back to those days. 

So that was my journey, from good to bad to worse, to Godly, but it took me years of fighting my family, fighting the world, fighting myself, but it wasn’t the fighting that I did myself. It was the research, the opening of my heart that I made as my goal. The need to find out why people care so much about each other and what they get from one another.

My younger years were full of longing and searching and torching my future, of abusing and using and harassing my teachers. My younger years are disgraceful and sad, evil and bad, but they made me who I am today and I can’t say, the hard work, it didn’t pay, as I no longer hurt and harm and harass. Now I look for love and where there is none, I pass. I have found that love is the key because God is the only one who can set you free. 

Last: A+

Oh what an A that plus is. What a dec A had and a waste thereof. I just can’t stand how sad this was. An A and then a plus, like the grades that were a must. I think the plus was just as much of a lie as the A. You can’t have a grade if you don’t have a trade, and if you don’t do the work, you cannot get paid.

 
You spoiled your riches by lying in ditches, waiting for me to fight all of your bit**es. I’m not a white knight. I’m not a savior. I’m a chick with a plethora of fears and tears that you’d never even believe because you’re too scared of everything.

 
You don’t want to know, you don’t want to show, you don’t want anyone else to even go. You want to pretend and be someone you’re not, but all you had to do was stop lying. Stop dying, but no, you won’t. You’ll deny and deny and call it all a lie because you’re not even close to an A, so how did you get the plus?

 
You’re an incomplete. You’re the I because we’re the same, so alone we will die, or we will settle and not know why, but it’s because you’re I. We cannot survive because there’s only one I. There aren’t two in survive, or thrive, or alive. There’s only me trying to get you to see, but you refuse to ever even listen to me.

 
You hear, you ask, you question, but you never agree. There’s always a reason for you to think it’s too crazy to be, but it’s too crazy not to be and you are not for me because you can’t see me for who I am and you can’t see God with all that He does and all that He is, so you can’t be an A and not even a plus, until you can tell me for sure, who made us. 

The Fail

The constant fear, the lack of tears, the fall of man is almost here. I failed and fell and crashed and burned, the heart I have it cannot learn. It runs and hides and turns in fright, it panics and squirms like an escaping worm.

I try and try, but I don’t know why because all that is there is a hurt little guy. There’s no man, there’s no bravery, there’s alcohol and it’s slavery. The crutch is blocking the man and the lust is forcing my hand. There is no love, there is no chance, the years they crumble like my heart in my hand.

It doesn’t work anymore, it doesn’t fit through the door. The pieces they’re too small to handle. The door is closed and locked up tight, like a window at the end of the night. This is the end, this is it. All the years have gone to sh*t.

The whole thing stinks, the feelings they reek, I just can’t stop to think because if I do, I’ll realize it’s true, that I’ve failed myself and most of all, I’ve failed you. 

Devastated

 I’m devastated. The fact that we dated, the time that I wasted, the long and hard days working for you to say you hate it. I went to you with an open heart, I said I loved you from the start. I wasn’t lying, I was always trying, but you still decided to destroy everything I am.

I cooked, I cleaned, I even tried not to be mean. I laughed off the pain and pretended your actions were sane. I just wanted it to work, but all it did was hurt. Nothing I did was good enough, nothing I did was even worth noticing. Who knew that this would be tough? I didn’t even know that you hated me so much. 

You straight lied, you thought we were tied, but you were the one who was being evil. You are the one who caused an upheaval. You kicked us out, you caused all of the doubt, and then you tried to call me out.

You accused me of cheating, when none of it had meaning. I didn’t even know you, so how could I have boned you? If I had a choice, I would have chosen you, but you weren’t there, so I never knew. I never thought, I never sought.

I just existed and this life is twisted, so guys just took what they wanted and left me addicted. I wanted it, I needed it, I could barely breathe without it. I was dying, but even still, I was trying, to stay true to the one, even though I didn’t know it was you. I still meant to stay true to you. I tried, I did, but you only forbid, me from ever being forgiven for me rarely ever giving in. 

It’s fine, I get it. You’re in it to win it. You won because I’m scum and I don’t bring any fun. I’m a loser and a failure. I’m lost here and I fell near. Nearer to letting go, but further than you’ll ever know. Now I’m dead and dying. Now I ruined my timing.

I wasted a third of my life because you never wanted me as your wife. I took that doubt and hurt and pain and caused those years to be in vain. I killed the only hope I had, just because I wanted Jade to have a dad. I ditched the only one whose ever known, anything about me that I’d call home. 

Everything has fallen apart, but most of all, I’d say my heart.

😭

There are no words. There are no phrases. I keep on hating you, but it comes in phases. I hate your guts, you drive me nuts and all I can do is lust after sluts, but not just any slut, the one where you nut, and cause a person to grow in her gut. 

I want her badly, but it’s because she’s your daddy and I want to be her stalker, and act like her caddy. It’s your fault I need her, because you’re always trying to feed her, your super soft thing that makes you a sir. You want her, you need her, so clearly I want to be her, but I can’t, so I rant about wanting to eat her.

I’m better than you, but I never knew. I thought it was you who was better than me, but if she’s your owner, then she must own me, because there’s only a we and not just a me because without you, there could never have been me. You’re the original and I’m just a copy, so if you belong to your mom, then it’s clear she’s got me. 

I want her, I need her, but only because I want to be her. I can’t beat her, so I must join her. We can both enjoy her. We can have our fun and learn to show love to everyone, but I know you’re not the one because she thinks she owns her son. That’s you, not me. You’re a man, so that’s crazy, but I guess if you can, you will always be, in love with your original lady.

Broken

It’s over! It’s over! What a life to live sober. There’s no way to deal, there’s no way to heal. It’s all gone and there’s not even a shrill. There’s nothing of substance, there’s nothing to hear, but oh my God! I’m living my fear! The greatest one I’ve ever had. The one where everything I had goes bad, and everything I knew gets lost and it’s true.

My heart is so broken, I’m sure it cracked open. There’s no way it could stay with my life going this way. I miss you, I hurt. I’m broken and can’t flirt. I can’t love, I can’t deal, I’m not even sure I’m real. I just know that I can feel, and I know that because I’ve never learned to heal. I’ve been hurting and hurting, without healing the pain, no wonder people keep calling me insane.

I can’t handle the stress, I can’t handle the pain. I wish I could kill my heart like I turn off my brain. I loved you at first sight, I talked to you all night. I know you never loved me and I know you’re not right, but the pain and suffering, regret and pure madness, it’s driving me insane because I thought I had this.

I thought I had you. I thought you finally knew, but it’s not true. Only the nightmares about you came true. Only the sadness is all I ever knew. No chance was ever present because I treated you like a peasant. Like the guys who have destroyed me and caused me to be unpleasant. I hope you will forgive me, I hope you will stay true, but if not, I guess we all already knew.

Just said: 

1. Poem about poetry

A poem is like a dance. It is slow at first, but then, you catch the rhythm and it sweeps you off of your feet. It lifts you up into a new state of being, and puts you in the poem to get the exact statement of meaning. It is all encompassing and shines like a star that is beaming.

It can lead you into darkness, it can lead you into the light, but with a life so tragic, it tends to lead me into a fright, but when I’m scared, I don’t fight, no, I don’t even get on a flight. I freeze like an ice sculpture until the fright, it takes flight.

It washes over me like a strong and powerful wave, threatening to take me under, but no longer able to scare me like thunder.

I don’t have to feel it, I just have to be. If I stay still, I’m sure it will leave me. When it’s all over, I resume, but now I can’t bloom. I can’t speak, I can’t eat, because all I feel is doom. I can’t process the feelings, I can’t see past the fog because all I do is ignore each moment like a temporary clog.

I know it will go down, it’s just a matter of time, but when the time comes, will I be able to put it into a rhyme? Will I be able to make it into art, so maybe just maybe, the healing will start?

Can I face my pain without feeling any shame? Without hating who I am, who I’ve become and who I know I’ll never be? Can I write in such a way that you can all see me? I guess I’ll try my best to make sure you can, as it’s the only way you’ll ever know who I am.

 The art that goes with it

I’m crazy!

They call me crazy, but I’m too lazy, to correct the thoughts that lead to that judgment, maybe. I’m too smart for most people, so they think I’m their equal. They think I’m insane, but it’s because they’re lame. They don’t get me, they can’t get me and they never will. They are from and of this world and I’m God’s girl and will be still. Doesn’t matter how much they yell, doesn’t matter how often they tell. I’ll always know where I belong and to whom they are doing wrong. 

I know it’s crazy to be in love, I know it’s crazy to be addicted to the One above. I know no one else understands and I know I’ll never have a man. It’s okay, I don’t need one, the One I love is the only one that has ever won. He defeated their hate, destroyed their fate, yet they keep to their ways like they’re stuck behind a gate.

They can’t see past it and they can’t heal, but all they need to do is look up and feel. I’ll call myself crazy because I’m far too lazy to explain and explain because no matter what, they will remain the same. They need God, they need Him bad, but they just won’t give in and call Him dad. 

He wants them still, he loves them forever, just like I thought I did, but it turns out he was just being clever. I fell for the lies. I lost the prize, but it was never up for grabs in the first place. It was just me being crazy and fantasizing, maybe, since there’s no way I could have his baby. I’m just too dark, too evil and too stark. I can’t change how God made me, so I guess I have to be glad that you didn’t date me because if you hate me, how could I ever mate with me? 

You can’t, you won’t, but it’s okay because love me, you don’t. I won’t suffer, I can’t hurt, all it was, was a flirt. I’m not a liar, my hopes were higher, but clearly I’m not one to desire. I’m crazy, so I can’t even say that it was ever a thing. I guess there was never a chance of me getting a ring.

Thanks for not blaming me, thanks for giving me an out. I’m so grateful that you figured it out and that you informed me so I have no doubt. I need help, I need therapy, I need God and welp, I guess what I need is something heart felt.

I need love, I need a man, but most of all, I need a fan. Someone to love me and not call me crazy, since everyone, including my family uses that to name me. That’s who I am and what I do, all along it was me, but I blamed you. 

Safety

What a ghost! The thing I wanted the most. The only thing that could ever have made me a good host. A vessel for my Lord and Savior. I would have gotten His favor, had I only been able to Savor, the innocence and purity that would have left me married and in labor.

I would have been, could have been, should have been more. I didn’t have to be, I shouldn’t have been, it was wrong for me to be a whore, but what could I have done? How could I have won, the battle that I didn’t know had begun? 

I lost my mind, I lost my time, I lost everything I ever had and put everything I may have had, on the line. I pushed too hard, I went too far, and all I have now is a terrible scar. Not a small one either, it’s as large as a walk in freezer. Bigger than me, but still squeezed within this terrible tease. 

Safety, what a foreign word, what an invisible reality and an impossible dream. I’ll never see the things it could bring. I’ll never know what it means to be honestly and truly given a ring. I’ll never know true love, I’ll never enjoy another hug. I missed the boat, and away it did float, never to return again.

I lost it then, I had it when… I guess I was crazy and you weren’t even my friend. It must not have happened, you must not have cared, I guess it was wrong for me to never be scared. 

I trusted you, like a fool. I felt the safety, but it was just a tool. A way for you to make me stay, and I guess take all of my money away? I can’t believe I was deceived, but it was me who I did believe. I believed that you and me were meant to be and that I would always have you, even if you didn’t get on one knee.

I thought I knew I could count on you, but it was me who couldn’t see. I was blind to your lies and I kept hope because I thought I knew guys, but what I thought I knew, wasn’t true because I’m crazy and hallucinated my entire life and now I’m looking for a wife. Maybe she won’t be a hallucination.

Maybe she will be what will curb my masturbation. Maybe I should just not exist, since everything I experience isn’t real. Why would I ever think I can heal? There’s no way, there’ll never be a day because that wouldn’t keep me safe in any way.