Misanthropy I swallow my dreams And swallow caffeine With the things I cannot change. I calm my bones An reclaim a home With the things I hate to see. And I hate humanity. My flesh, my skin, My stems and roots and thorns Writhe with the innate need for more. Mycelium network And toadstools with blood-red caps Sprouting in my veins and through my skin. Vines and rose thorns All brutal, no flower, Bursting beneath my eyelids. A disgusting need, A vile thought, A revolting desire To be anything but human. To be holy, to be forsaken, To be wings and eyes and fur and beastly teeth. To rip and tear, To heal and bear The thought of what I refused, The misanthropy of my wounds.
