Over Confident, maybe

as bullets fly by
my glossed husk eyes
visually understanding why
I smell like the stench of gun
powder, acquiring the startled
attention of those unsuspecting
of my obnoxious voice, I pronounce
words with narcissistic sounds
because on top of the world
there is no room for any one
else, just a lonely douche bag
who no longer let's his tears
salted with angst and abused
compassion run down sidewalk drains
breathing in the joyous apathy
after spending a life time of perpetually
drowning in the sewage of society
unable to breathe the same air of
the big man on the toilet, until now
for I shit out confidence off of a
mountain, and turned it into
poetry.