This Is Poem #1, of 18, On Kindness and (self)Hate

Photo by Bekky Bekks on Unsplash

I spent the last three days on Hate.

It’s kind of like a drug, Hate, and being on it. In some ways, the hate is an escape from the reality of normal, everyday, dogged, and dog-eat-dog life. When you are on Hate, there is no worry for the normal ablutions of life.

Normal life doesn’t really matter, not job or friends, and family had better not call…