UNTITLED

At what point did I lose
At what point did I lose
A part of myself.
Allowed to corrode in the
Salty air and flaked away
Like so much dead skin.

I hate myself so much.
So much.

I even think I draw gratification from that hate,
And so how could I ever expect
How could I ever expect,
How could I ever,
Ever
Expect
Someone to love me for what I am.
How can anyone love a sack of meat,
Ready for the flies and buzz saws
Of the slaughterhouse,
That used to be a man.

That used to be a man.

I savour the bitterness’s consumption.

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