• Victoria Chwa

Sir Savoir-Faire

scum of the earth —

you. perish now

and nevermore bastardise our world

with your heinous turpitude.

collect fetid transudation in your glass carafe now.

wear it

and drink it;

might as well —

keep your cleverly opaque bottle filled with the strongest of intoxicants —

bring forth your meeting with the Reaper. ’tis the destiny you so desire.

curse the stars!

O, how they’ve sinned!

would that they’ve not granted you the girl you deserve?

Why, with your Herculean build, natural handsomeness and incontestable aptitude,

it is no wonder you place labels on girls,

and genius judgments at that.

O, how they’ve failed to meet your rightfully-set standards!

at your beck and call —

a bevy of babes to satisfy your lust,

the self-proclaimed ‘inferiors’ you look down upon,

and a group of angels to leech off of —

but only in your head.

and to what do I owe the honour

of having you speak of my beliefs

as a mockery?

Ha! indeed, eternally flattered.

I send you all my love

in the form of sympathy.

must be a lonesome journey

of self-chicanery.

awaken to the truth now.

your mask of humility has broken.

cement your lips to their derrières

and tighten the shackles that keep

you chained to your exceptional act


I trust in the beauty of goodness

and the gifts of its embrace,

of which everyone is entitled.

I shall, forevermore, seek forgiveness from myself

for putting down that grace.

O, you poor, ignorant thing,

living amidst delusion.

grey clouds will multiply and the air shall thicken

around you.

scum of the earth —

you deserve this.

originally published: 28 Jul 2015

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