Self-love means leaving cruel people behind

Can you love yourself and still covet the attention of haters like my ex-wife?

Those who can't sit around a table and share equally.?

Those who hide the details of their life because they fear the consequences if their friends or lovers knew the entire truth?

Those who claim you should be happy for them when they're stabbing you in the heart?

Those who assure you that you're too angry?

Those who can't achieve pleasure during sex and blame their lovers rather than their childhood trauma?

Those who are never wrong? (Of course—absolutely.)

Those who claim you are absent and are certain they are present?

Those who coach so they can control others and fear successful creators?

Those lost souls who join cults as long as they're praised? (What's the difference between EST and NVC in the end?)

Those who fat-shame and wealth- shame when they can't control their own addictions to harming themselves and stealing?

Those same few who are always healthy when visibly limping, extolling the unique instance of their chronic injuries and blaming others who must sit or are incarcerated?

Those whose only response to others' trauma is "sign up for my playshop."

Those who run playshops that never succeed because the few attendees say polite thank yous and never come back?

Those who plot against their creditors?

Those who believe their own propaganda and ban those like me who don't buy a seed of the facade?

Those who don't see pets as family?

Those with false vision of both I and thou (it's always both)?

Those who stop the second they can't win?

Those who only scan and never consume?

Those who count their meditations?

Those with no breasts who cannot feed?

The ghosts, vampires and tarantulas who crawl the planet honing their poisonous crafts…

The loud red coyotes who kill in packs and slouch alone…

Those who don’t listen to reason, can’t accept apologies and have no reason to question their own ethics?

Obviously I’m describing you.  It’s so easy. I could go on like this for hours, as I have, infatuated by your robot flaws. 

The dead on whom the evening snow always falls.  

Those who do not know gratitude except for the glory of their own wonderfulness. The false humility of the self-annointed passionate?  Graceful?  Sage?  Those bullies we all eschew after 3rd grade?

Those who have “always been bisexual.”

Those who find lovers on Fetlife and believe they aren’t fetishists. (Because they’re exceptional lesbians on the first try!)

Those who are the best students in the class because they switch classes the minute they aren’t (and blame and ignore the teacher). 

Those who call mansplaining when they’re doing it all wrong. 

You and you again.  You in your mirror aging gracefully. Indifferent to your empty legacy as you are unconcerned about mine. 

Those with only ego, and no ideology.