Perhaps there’s no solace,
For monsters like me.
Writing silent dirges in the dark.
Fighting to stay Humanist,
Pay penance.
Avoid death spirals of Misanthropy.
I am tired of being misconstrued by others.
Sick of rolling over,
Belly up.
Infamy or not,
I’ll ignore their bastardizations,
Of my truths.
Belly Up.
