A few months ago I was taken back by the fierceness of those who I thought were congenial people. I learned otherwise tempered minds absolutely turn into werewolves, hunt down victims and chew flesh, spit out venom like snakes in the grass. Whoever gets killed by their egos, beast or baby, matters not.
I will not mention names as neither matters. Fame comes at a cost and humanity always loses out. I do not care how eloquent your words are when you brandish people with coal-hot iron. I do not care if you turn the heads of men. Or women.
Give me a humble quilt before a bejeweled cloak. Better yet, leave me cold on the street in sackcloth. I will atone for your sins too.