with malice towards one and all

there is this dirty incestuous desire .
to possess malice.
something i could never own.
something i long to hold onto. but it always slips away.
something i desperately try to invite, every time i try...
try to be mean.
to push away.
to bitch.
to repulse.
to possess.
to be sarcastic.
try too hard perhaps.
bordering on obsession.
i dont know when or how it came to be so important.
but i know why it did.
to build a wall of bitterness around me.
so that none of it from anyone else may effect me.
but no matter how much i try.
my dilapidated attempts at the construction of the wall are diluted with the lack of improper upbringing, but strengthened by improper schooling.
the first one prevails.
and unfailingly. the wall gets punctured.... in its nascent stages.
exposing to the world... the me that i thought was well protected.
and im caught unawares.
and thats when it hits the hardest.
bullet fast.
and unwarranted, unexpected.