PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

READ THE FIRST PART OR THIS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE

The need was only outweighed by the want. I attempted to feel that connection repeatedly only to have my hopes torn down like the abandoned structures they were. I was hopeless, even defeated if you will. This loss of comfort had strengthened me, lining my skin with the armor of the shards of the heart once felt. None of it seemed fair to me but i had already been jaded by the ways of the world. I knew it for the cold beast it was.

The idea of humanity began to twist and distort behind my eyes. Every day seemed a little darker as I gave in to the ideas that only manifest in the part of the mind a man avoids. I was getting sick, my personal demons dancing before me in every movement made. My mind was entering the free and clear with a stunning new ability, it was unchanging, unfeeling, and primal in its nature. Women began to find me more attractive, and men knew to avoid me. I had become the social predator and simply wanted to dance while this world burned.

Always that thought screaming in my skull to go back to myself. Begging me, pleading, repeatedly reminding me that what I was becoming was a thing of evil. Yet, it felt so good to finally be in control.
I wanted to spread my mentality through others, awakening them from their ignorant bliss. My entire generation was filth, none of you could deny that. I wanted to change it, I wanted to hurt others the way I had been hurt, even if only to remind them of their heart and that it was still beating.

I grew addicted. Manipulating relationships and scaring lives. If I heard of a person cheating I became the living embodiment of karma. If a man was abusive, I abused him. That was the rule, only do to others what you see them doing. By every definition you have ever known I was becoming sociopathic, but I was using my powers for good. I was adding justice to the world in my own little flavor. I had a point to live for and a drive to push me. I was intelligent, capable, and motivated, and still that thought was screaming for me to stop.

I was reminded over and over of the love I could feel. I slept less every night, my dreams broken by the despair I was feeling behind the walls. I thought I had escaped it but it remained. I was still the little romantic boy behind all of this. I still wanted to love and be loved. I wanted a life I could live not to die an idea. I was strong but I was not happy.