Insane

I think my life
has been a campaign
of scorched earth
except that I burned
what was before me,
and thus walked
into these barrens
fully aware
of what was coming,
feeling somehow
that all the pain
was required of me
in order to illustrate for some
what not to do,
how not to live.

My life was never 
my own, and happiness
was not for me except 
in short bursts
which were meant
to make me hurt more
when they were inevitably
blown away.

Call me what you want —
insane, mad, depressed, 
evil, deluded, wrong, 
wrong, wrong — 
I will agree
but only because such labels
comfort you,
not me,
never me.