Contempt is Insatiable

Winter influences the breezes on the beach.

They’re not the same as before.

However I can adapt to my surroundings.

Steadfastly, I merge with the environment

of any kind.

There’s a plethora of answers that adults don’t know.

When I ask them a question,

their response is fumbly and curt.

Then they hurriedly recede back into their affairs.

What a strange concept.

I’m not afraid of the dark abyss,

For I have been ensconced in her comfortable womb for years.

Contempt is sordid.

It eerily destroys the host

until

unadulterated malignancy

is the only thing that remains.