Unflinching

the vultures who hover & wait for the freshly dead are best friends, ****ing BFF’s with the curious curious cats & kittens who will not allow one to be themselves, who will not get their fingers out of the pie, who will not stay away & stop focusing on everyone, everything, but their own miserable, mundane & hopeless existence--- these gutters, these who thrive on the ability, on the very attempt to slice the torso & take all that someone holds inside, all that is one’s secret feeling of destiny, all that is pure & special, unique to one, they can only be successfully met in conflict, with an unflinching honesty, with gritted teeth & the notion that no one will take what we each hold so dear, that death is highly preferred over the rape of the individual, for the sake of the herd.