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the empty claims
I was a cute baby,
A pretty boy,
And a failure.
I had the build
To be a great son
For a father.
Instead I had to fight a mother
Who claimed I was her son.
The empty claims
Numbed me into a sociopath.
So I became another monster,
Who hasn’t had his first kill,
Or his first fuck.
I was confidant in my ability to win,
But after winning,
I always felt more sadistic
Than triumphant.
In school there were black kids
Who fought for me,
And white kids who stood up for me.
I tried not to let them know,
About the kids who tormented me.
I tried being evil to imitate them.
I didn’t realize they were good,
I was just different.
And they all looked at me strangely…
Not hurt by what should hurt…
I missed the animals, which died the most.
And at home I tried being funny and strong,
Instead I was obnoxious and put up with,
Or I was quiet and carried along.
