Saying I never wanted to hurt anyone
doesn’t make me a good man.
Saying I wish you nothing but good
doesn’t make it any more true.

(Broken, yet I function.
Kinda like a cracked-screen smartphone.
Yeah, kinda like that.)

Into the emptiness of air I raise
a fist forged of malice
and allow it to float there, to deflate
to defy, defy Pantheon
and surround me with the ringing, stinging noise
of the feedback loop.

The first rule of my feelings is.