Shhhhhhhh

The voices scream

Shhhhhhhh

Reality is just a dream

Shhhhhhhh

Never alone in this madness

Shhhhhhhh

Always alone with this sadness

Shhhhhhhh

Pills like candy, pop, pop, pop

Shhhhhhhh

I’ll do anything, just make it stop

Shhhhhhhh

Shhhhhhh

Shhhhhh

Shhhhh

Shhh

Shh

Sh

Shit

I’ll just end it

Colors, absent,

Lay abandoned,

Naked, on the floor.

Beauty, fading,

Porcelain, painting,

Broken, here, no more.

Angels?

Demons?

Are they not woven from the same cloth?

Did they not once serve the same God?

Do they still?

Who knows?

Certainly, not I.

For who better to do God’s dirty work,

Then his most trusted angel: Lucifer?

Tiny lace beads,

Intertwine,

Mingle and

Dance,

Silently,

Covering my path,

In glistening moonlight.

“Shhhhhhhhh”

The wind whispers,

Slowly wrapping its cold arms around me.

I try to escape,

But its grasp tightens.

Violent,

Yet soft,

It plays with me,

Tauntingly,

Turning my hair against me,

As if possessed by Medusa herself.

It is sewn into the fabric which built this nation.

Lives dangling from damaged and tangled thread,

Unable to break free.

While privilege shouts “free yourselves”

But the more they try,

The farther they fall,

The tighter the strings,

And the louder privileged screams.

Their words linger

Stagnant, in the air

Suffocating

Love, trust; gone

In an instant

Leaving a crumbling statue

Of a family; now in ruins

They proclaim

It's Satan's work

Fixable, curable

A poison I refuse.

They say

I am too young,

Naive,

Still figuring things out,

I'll come around,

I'm just confused.

They swear this is true.

But I know better,

I know me.

I know my heart.

I know love.

And it ain't changin'.

They refuse me.

Say it's my choice

And I'm choosin' wrong.

That I ain't no child of theirs.

They raised a good boy

And a faggot ain't no good boy.

Lost for words I stutter

Looking for a rewind button

That doesn't exist

Or glue that can fix this

But I can't deny who I am

No matter how hard I try.

So I watch

It all fall apart

Before I walk away.

To make us great, again,

He dismantled us

Piece by piece

Promising to rebuild us better

But, in the end,

he was only willing to give us scraps from his tabled feast.