All his life

he ran after it,
desperately elbowing his way
forward, all the while
saying "Bless your heart"
as he drew fresh blood,
vacuuming up friends
and spitting them out
like fish bones when
they had no flesh left
to give.
He cultivated a charming smile,
a winning expression,
a confident demeanor,
and a left hook nobody ever saw
coming.
Everyone else became
an appliance, either
useful or not.
And after a mountain
of wonderfully creative lies,
ruined benefactors,
suicidal wives,
shattered Johnnie Red bottles,
and the soul crushing despair
of anyone
who got too close to the white-hot
betrayals,
he HAD it.
And it was at that moment
that he decided that everyone
else's suffering
had really been
worth it.