Beauty in this Morbid Fixation

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If I were to ever misinterpret your thoughts
As the words that fluidly flow out of your mouth,
I am to be the biggest fool
To ever be bestowed upon this world.
I know little of the people around me.
I know little of the world around me.
However, I do know you —
You complex, vile creature.

It is always the most grotesque
That inspires the passion within my bare soul.
The most ugly, consorted human beings
Always ring a truth to me.
People like you seem to be the only real thing
In a place where it is generally conceived
That not a person can be trusted.

I care not to know of what
You are really thinking.
I want to become engrossed
In my game of guessing.
As I fixate more upon you and your world,
I lose touch of the objective view of mine.
‘Tis fine though.
I’ll find another one.

If I were to ever let you go
In this putrid life we have built together,
I am to be the biggest fool
To ever be bestowed upon our little Earth.
I know much of our Earth’s inhabitants.
I know much of its features.
However, I don’t know much else . . .
Thanks for the loss of perception,
You complex, beautiful creature.

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