it feels better
being stalked
from a safe distance
than having to deal
with the terminally
self obsessed

rabid monsters
consumed with consuming
thriving on the misery
of others
so desperate to be
part of something
like it is an
ozempic sport
yet always stuck
in the periphery
ancillary characters
in their own stories

spreading the blame
while assuming none
has become the new
strained refrain playing
on a self sabotaging loop

they cannot expect
happy endings when
they only know how to
manufacture strife
constantly consuming
yet never feeling full
because the emptiness
is not a reflection
but a stark reality
a truth they cannot abide