Sick Bastards

by Matt Shaw

So much pain in the world - what’s a little bit more?

I thought about my family and what they had become: a mother pleasing a father beneath the dinner table whilst kids are present - and then trying to do the same for son; a sister sitting there, aware of what is happening, whilst eating slithers of a person.

Who was it (in the first place) who deemed the difference between rights and wrongs anyway? Who was to say they were right in what they initially said?

I welcome death, yes, but I’m too afraid to run towards it with open arms;

I am a killer - yes - but I don’t want to be.

I could go back to how I was; the innocent lad as opposed to the flesh eating, incestuous killer that I had grown to be. I knew I could go back. Try and put it all behind me. Move on with my life in whatever capacity that the outside world permitted.

having a soul meant I wasn’t part of his family anymore. Disowned.

I smiled because I found the deer to be beautiful. With everything going on in the world, I found beauty. I hadn’t lost my humanity. I hadn’t lost my soul.