Embedded into my torment. Rooted into my soul. I am beaten and cornered like the ugliest animal stripped of its home.
Born and bred like a dog without enough rope. I am lonely and hated and kicked and left in the street. Time. Fear. Anger. A world of pain.
Time has made me a shell, Fear has made me aware. Anger has made me a threat in a world of pain that belongs to me.
I am survived by the idea that I am to be a thorn in every side of creation and every one that I'll see in hell. This world has made me a dangerous man in all the same ways that smoke will put you in the fucking dirt.