It’s hard to enjoy life when my days are spent running into you. Any happiness escapes and is replaced by misery the moment my eyes are placed on yours. You are a disease, a plague, the very epitome of evil. You’re Nero, Pol Pot, God, Hitler, Pope Stephen VI, Pope Clement VII, Pope John XII, and the current Pope in one.

I hate you. Die. Wither away like the leaves in winter. Disappear like Natalie Hollaway and Jo Bennett.  Be the face on milk cartons saying, “have you seen this person?”

You are a vacant home; empty and alone. Not even the destitute drunkard or crack head would reside in it. I don’t want your body to surface on a river bed for someone to find. I only wish that your flesh be ripped apart by sharp teeth and strong  jaws by the demons living within the ocean. May your bones plummet to the sea floor to never be discovered. May your carcass rot and be the feast for larva, worms, and ants.

You’re a broken hymen, never to be used again; the toy that the child never played with after he grew up — a distant memory sealed in a box and locked in the attic.

You’re the eyes of a blind man, the limbs of a paraplegic, a paralyzed spine. When my thoughts are sadly wasted on you, I can only create illustrations of AIDS, rape, and poverty. You are the serial in killer; an unwanted fetus, the cut of an umbilical cord.

Just leave already, die, get lost in the triangle, of Bermuda. Let me be. Stop the torment, the pain, the suffering. I want to experience the best life has to offer yet you hinder, block, and enslave me.

You’re a cage, the shell of bullet, an empty glass. You’re a blood diamond, the shrapnel in a child’s body, the whip of a slave master; the blade that has passport stamps from the countries it visited — lungs, heart, neck, arms, and legs.

You’re an account in a bank totaled at zero. Be the rust on metal, flake off. Be the air of a flat tire, evaporate. Become a corpse getting incinerated into ashes. Be gone. You are toxic. Poison. Cancer. Melt away like a glacier in heat. Get abused like animals of cruel owners.


Suffer like a parent who lost his child to an American bomb. Be the genitals of a catholic boy, get molested.   You are the foreskin of a circumcised penis; the razor of a suicidal teen; a broken clock, a broken car, a broken home; you, are, broken.   Just feel the pain the Jews felt inhaling cyanide. Burn like the Vietnamese did from American Napalm. You are death — the toll of those dying in war.   Please, please suffocate. Bury yourself alive and feel the misery you’ve caused.   You are wicked, you’re Stalin, Mao, Columbus, Bush.

You’re the U.S. Hegemony, an exploiter, a war profiteer, a bringer of death.   You’re the alcohol poisoning, the drunk driver, the intoxicated liver.

You’re the guard that tortures POW’s. Your first name is Extraordinary, last name Rendition.

I beg you, please, just dissipate. Transform into nothingness. Become an abyss, a black hole, a molecule with no atom.

I hate you. You’re what’s wrong with the world. You plus you equals evil. You’re destruction. Despair. Pain. Confusion.

You. Are. Me.

***Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If you enjoy what you read; please share, like, and comment. All of these details help me drastically and will allow me to write more often. Thank you for your support!***

30 thoughts on “The Enemy Among Us

  1. Hey man,
    My sister forced me to read this and I’m glad she did…you have skill bro don’t stop doing what u do. Good luck.

  2. you brought so many of the worlds past and present evils into light. You share your emotions with your writing I feel your passion and anguish with every sentence. You have a gift my brother from another mother

  3. You know I was very uncomfortable when you read this to me, and later when I read it. But I know that was your point, and it’s really quite thought-provoking, and DOES shake me out of my complacency. Thanks for keeping it real!

  4. Good job, but to you some of this stuff is bad, to others. It is not. For the most part tho everything you said is true. I imagine this is how women feel when they don’t meet up to cosmetic standards or when men aren’t strong enough and can’t provide for their family. But why so much hatred?

    • I don’t hate, although it is a very “hate like” piece. It was just my way to vent from such a backwards society we live in. So sick of all the death, suffering, poverty, and what not. All my writing does trully come out of love and sometimes my writing is an escape. Thank you for your comment.

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