They Spite Me

They want a reaction out of you

They want you to react

Like toluene

In a bunsen burner

They change the gears to quick

You are not ready

So the meaning shifts

It is uncontrollable

And unpleasant

This is the presence of the demons

Or whatever you want to call them

The mental–

Everyone is psychic and harasses me

It’s their problem

And I’m the victim

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