Personal Original Sin

I have started to hunt again
I hear my feelings go to lend
I’m numb but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb
I’m prone, but that doesn’t mean I’m alone
I’ll spend my time with you today
Not that you have a choice anyway
I figure we’ll talk, communicate hate
Not that you can with your mouth gate
I see the holes in the wall
Physical representational call
I wonder aloud why you have so much
It seems unlikely for an organ touch
Listen, I think you’re lashing out
Against whom, I’m lost about
Maybe you have a victim of your own
You feed them scraps off the bone
In guess you just hate yourself
Then we’re less different in mental health
Perhaps that’s just wishful thinking
I see your rapid blinking

I slowly feel a shift in the floor
You keep glancing to the door
But something went wrong
There’s now calls for “mom”?