Creatures of the gray

It makes no difference how you judge me, that will be your mistake,
But I have dipped for the last time, into the pool of everything you forsake,
Even in the narrows of despair, you think I want to take.

I will rise alone, knowing in time, all and nothing that matters will show me home.

It was never kindness or love, nor an egoic need that held worth,
It was the bite of cold teeth, that delivered me to rebirth,
Little spiteful creatures, my stomach turns rotten at you in your mirth.

I stick my finger down my throat, excited to be empty of hope.

The anger fades, the distance grows and pity follows,
I am free of the pounding monsters and their following hollows,
I leave you to your pain and grief that your blind mind swallows.

I'd rather listen to the crows, and breathe in what grows.