Psychopath Poems

Sadly, She Is Still A Psychopath

she still slams doors
like the world owes her rent,

still drinks the bottle
to the bottom,
still laughs at the blood on the floor
like it’s a carnival trick.

I kept thinking—
hell, maybe she’ll soften,
maybe she’ll learn
how to hold a hand
without drawing a knife.

but love doesn’t cure venom,
and I’m no doctor.

I’m just another fool
who tried to tame fire
and ended up

Charming Psychopath

They live like we do and look like we do.
Inside their sometimes quintessential houses
they reside oftentimes with a wife, maybe children.

They work in jobs where we might work.
Some may even be the preacher at a church.
They could be a government official.
What harm could there be in someone with great charm?

Behind the doors of their houses,
(perhaps

Movie of Shame

I was new at the Jewish senior home
In the center garden I saw old man read a tome
I asked his name, to start a conversation, 
"Marvin Klutznik", he replied, to my consternation.

I had paid so much to be in the place
The man I was speaking was a global disgrace
I felt like departing, but since not

The Psychopath

In shadows thick, she carves a grin,
No conscience dwells beneath her skin.
She counts the stars like tally marks,
Each one a spark snuffed in the dark.

She mimics tears, rehearses pain,
But empathy runs dry as the rain.
A charming mask, a velvet lie,
With every smile, a soul will die.

She walks through crowds, a ghost, this name,
No guilt, no

Psychopath

At age three she was the baby who couldn't feel afraid
A life track was set out, just the way she was made
They tested her at eighteen, with images of blood and gore
No galvanic skin response, a smile and nothing more

She lied from early on, another way to control
If you had contact with her, it was

manipulated by a psychopath

her confidence was brittle
as fragile as a lightbulb
her abuser had been an expert
manipulating and destroying
ruining the confidence of a remarkable woman
what joy could there have been in this transformation?
not being a psychopath, we could not relate

Being a psychopath must be hard

Okay no remorse
for chipping a body to bits
but no sadness
no happy
no joy
well unless that was your last victims name
Only love when someone is thrashing you at tennis
Hate to say it but none of that either
No passion to comp
Surely hunger is felt
No fear t-shirts aplenty
Can they feel heat even just their feet
No pride or humility
No want

The Functioning Psychopath

Emotion has no place in the operating room, emotion cost lives.
Every time emotion comes into play, patients needlessly die.
In the operating room I am an emotionless machine.
I have a success rate that no neurosurgeon has ever seen,
and when I return home, I continue to be,
this total void of emotion human being.
I am a functioning psychopath,
pushed

Worn Out By a Psychopath

worn out 
worn down
just plain worn
is there a bit of sass left
or self-preservation?
She does not care anymore.

You Can Be a Psychopath

You can think you’re better though affection isn’t shown 
You never win approval from the people you have known 
But you still boast abilities and think how far you’ve grown 
with nobody around you as you’re always on your own 

You’ve never known what is to be liked or to be loved 
you only know

My Old Best Mate Is a Psychopath

Maybe you’re a psychopath 
you certainly have the traits 
I find it disconcerting 
the picture that it paints 

I know you better than all the rest 
They don’t believe what I suggest 
They think you’re such a lovely fella 
and I’m seen as a storyteller 

It doesn't really bother me 
if they hear it then

Psychopath On the Road

I know the sky is beautiful, I told her
who seemed delighted with everything on the road
I'm focused on driving, I grumbled
palaces and hovels
heavens or hells,
I don't care anymore, I said
be quiet and let me drive in silence
my thoughts poisoning my brain
she's a pretty girl but she's gonna die too
it doesn't matter that she's humming so

I Am a Psychopath

I am a psychopath
a derange
a fruitcake

she looked at me as if I am looney tunes, a
nutter, madwoman, maniac, nutcase, nut. 
I stuck out my tongue, causing her to flee

the man in the elevator asked me
where would she go? 
We three have been stuck in here for hours

A Hostel With a Psychopath

You see your problems important 
because they are to you 
My problem’s your ignorance 
it’s not my problem too 

You destroy the peace 
Bangs and shouts increase 
you don’t shut up or cease 
No escaping your release 

You think you can justify 
interfering in my life 
with what the hell you like 
and I should

Traits of a Psychopath

she made me sandwiches and cooked my t 
she washed my clothes and kept me clean 
but she never showed me any empathy 
and that's how love comes across mean 

my emotional needs were left to starve 
she cooked and she cleaned and she did so with heart 
she made sure that belt slapped my

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