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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1150001-Spawn-of-Satan
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Drama · #1150001
I wrote this during one of my depressed periods after my parents divorce.
Have you ever felt so alone, so lost,
That you didn't want to live anymore?
Have you ever felt like you had no purpose,
That no one wanted you around?
Like everyone hates you,
Or that everything they say that is good,
Is a lie?
Like you're trapped in a cage,
Or in a black hole deep enough to drown in?
How about feeling nothing at all?
Or feeling everything all the time?
The barbs from false compliments;
The sting from sugar-coated insults?
The betrayal,
The loneliness of being hated
For being who you are?
Your family turning away from you,
Just when you need them the most?
And not being able to drown,
In the fiery amber liquids,
Or the cold steel of a blade?
How about love being torn away from you,
For no reason other than
For other's amusement?
Have you ever walked down the halls,
And felt the hatred in the stares,
Then went home to a reception of ice?
Or heard the whispers behind your back,
Behind your eyes,
In your head?
What about watching a society
Destroy everything you love?
Or one that amplifies all the hate?
Have you ever felt
Like you were a mistake?
An abomination on this petty Earth?
Have you ever felt such pain
So quick,
So hard,
So searing,
That your body goes numb?
Your heart beats faster and faster,
Trying to keep you alive,
But your spirit dies anyway?
Your palms sweat,
Your head splits,
Your heart breaks?

No, you haven't.
You don't know,
What I'm going through.
You don't know,
How I feel,
What I think.
You can't grasp the weight,
Of the pain.
Or knowing that you
No one loves you.
You don't know
How it feels to be betrayed,
To be shunned,
To be hated.
You, who claims to love through it all,
Have rejected me,
Rejected your own flesh and blood,
Rejected my plea for help.
You, with your fickle heart
And your flowery words.
You with the poison on your tongue,
The female viper.
The poor victim,
Cursed with the spawn of Satan.
The spawn of Satan who
Can no longer feel anything,
Except pain.
Can see nothing,
But shades of gray.
Who has nothing but a hole.
A hole where her heart used to be.
A hole now filled with fragments.
And anger.
And hatred.
And pain.
No light.
No innocence.
This spawn of Satan
Has grown up and lost it all:
Love is a figment of my mind,
Like the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.
But you,
You've lost the most.
And gained the worst.
You have a child of Hell.
You have a spawn of Satan:
Me.
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