Sabotage By Toothpick boy
I, you see, am a saboteur, though not of normal breed. While others tend to spit their spite, I swallow mine with heed.
It swells inside and begins to speak, to scream that I am second-rate. And though I'm told to love myself, all I feel is hate.
I beat myself to pulp and mush; I tenderize my skin. I rid myself of what it takes to train and fight and win.
So many of those who tried have failed as I'm bound to ball and chain. I drown beneath deep waves of hurt. I sink to writhe and strain.
For I have contracted an evil cancer: A kind that plagues the mind. It keeps me from my own true pride. The cure I've failed to find.