"Host Bodies"

Don’t think I don’t see you, because I do.

I see you, I’ve *always* seen you, sharply dressed and “respectable” though you claim to be. You’re really no different from the “good” men in my day.

“Host bodies” you say. I know this as well. I too was only seen as a container for what I carried (though in my case it was my blood).

But a curse upon you, and those of your kind. We’ll grind your kind into the dirt.

Watch your names fall from memory.

Chant the truth behind your stories, and shine a light upon your evil hearts.

“Good”, what is that now? And why does it almost always seem to involve hurting someone else?

Taking from someone else.

Reducing someone else to being lesser.

Inhuman.

Not worth the consideration.

(I only ever wanted to be left alone.)

He too claimed the banner of life and light. He too claimed to travel the bright path of “good” – the path of his damned god. And all the idiots (then, as now), took my blackness for evil and judged me against his light. Allowed that cosmetic brightness to expunge him of his crimes.

(Were it my mother, would they have seen him for what he was?)

Never believe a man convinced of his own good, for sooner or later the penalty is always paid in blood.