They like the sawgrass, the skeletons of old trucks along the highway, the vultures picking apart the bones and flesh, the sweet morsels and golden hair, glasses, hoodie, things you despise and mock, things you hate, roadside, in a red ditch, some creature that lives mostly in your head, I made you care, I said I would make you care, that includes hatred, spite and my waxen face, staring at you forever, I want you to feel the coldness and hollowness and cruelty of what you have contributed to, I was even criticized for penning a small eulogy for someone I barely knew, this is how people are, they're like dogs tearing apart a rabbit, all that matters is what they eat, it's thoughtless savagery and mindless violence, I am sick of it, I'm sick how we all treat one another. People treat one another as if they don't matter, I am guilty also, I am treated as if I don't matter.