I see your smile in the dark.

It spreads as I run to overcome you.

Now the black dog has come to collect.

Panic in my chest, the pain in my bones, disease in my blood and the fear in the air.

I feel it panting and growling, wet, ever-present, gnawing at my heart, my soul and who I am and who I am trying to be.

A better man is not fueled by things like vengeance and revenge.

The old ways stay buried deep within, in the grave.

I want to feel the spray of blood.

I do not want your camaraderie, companionship, associations, advice, or words.

I do not want your empty promises or stories of your greatness.

I do not desire acceptance.

I want the laments and wails of the clowns that follow your every move.

I choose to remain alienated and free.

You cannot take what I do not desire.

I choose to walk away from the gnashing, wanton mouths who will bite anything to feed.

The clown at the other end pulling the strings of a rusted king's crown.