I don't think I ever got to be a kid.

Quite possibly,

I was merely a whirlpool of thoughts

Before I was

Compacted into 

The physicality 

That is my body

That my life only started when I knew

What is meant to be

Dead.

That I could learn to live with such

A sadistic point of veiw

Because I had the truth,

Which was glorious 

As well as it was

Facade.

That there was no point in hiding

The fact

That it is becoming

Easier and easier

To hate the world

To be done with everyone 

And everything 

Because hate surges 

In every vein

And is stronger than

The anesthetic of

Clarity.

That the world isn't any perception of

Good

Yet we keep pretending that is is indeed 

Good

As we lie in bed 

Knowing that it is indeed

Not