Some thoughts


đź”—

would you still love me if you knew who i am? i deserve love, but do i want yours? i need attention, but yours is divided. who is the monster here?


đź”—

what will you tell your children? when they ask about me what will you tell my family? when it’s them i want to see i’m sorry i lied to you but who i am is who i want to be. i wonder if you’ll ever understand do i even hold out hope? i don’t even know anymore should i even hold out hope? it’s hard to tell anymore


đź”—

I guess this is my life now it’s not who I am but it’s who I wanted to be and now I’m isolated from my family for no reason well, for no good reason who have I become? I’m not a monster now, but I wasn’t then either. wasn’t I?


đź”—

I hate this restriction placed on me born of false necessity and true lies I really wish I had gone and they really wish I hadn't


đź”—

I shouldn’t have to tell you it shouldn’t even matter I shouldn’t have to tell you but now I’m underwater


đź”—

as I gaze upon the graveyard of my life I see… I see what could have been I see the lies I told I see epitaphs that needn’t be and as I walk through this graveyard my feet touching the grass shards of servers long gone cut my skin but there’s no groundskeeper here so I have to clean them up myself but they weigh so much and I don’t think I'm strong enough


đź”—

I opened my closet door and showed it my skeletons well, only one the rest are too heavy but maybe someday I will gain the strength maybe it would be easier if I left that life behind me


đź”—

as I sit here in quiet contemplation in a place I didn’t have to be of the person I wasn’t really of the things I shouldn’t have done I wonder if my future is really so uncertain


đź”—

you say you’re compassionate, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. you say you’re not bigoted, while you ban me, again and again and again. you say you care about children, so why do you think about me more? you want me to die, but do you really want my blood on your hands? i just want you to listen. why is that so hard?


đź”—

speaking in tongues preventing keyword searching searching yearning for respect but finding none death threats they fall on deaf ears but the soul listens i didn’t know i was searching for pain i wonder whose pain it really was


đź”—

i wonder if you’re a fed i wonder how much i glow i wonder if it matters


đź”—

your villification is empty. stop crying wolf. someone will really get hurt.


đź”—

you people act so oblivious as if your suffering is more legitimate then you exclude us using our enemies’ rhetoric against us I despise you yet I am you overwhelmingly so I used to feel at home in your hands but if you don’t cut this out, there will be blood on them


đź”—

i was a termite in my own home i was a termite in our home it felt good. it felt right. i didn't see what it did to you


đź”—

I died a loving and caring death yet I continue to kill myself word spreads like wildfire yet I keep burning bridges I need to burn you too yet I don’t want to die but I guess it’s OK cause we all die alone still, I try to move on but these ashes are in the way I went through the looking glass but my reflection was fake I went down a rabbit hole I found my own grave I want a funeral but they’re not really for the dead, are they?


đź”—

(Alternate draft of the previous poem) I died a loving and caring death yet I continue to kill myself word spreads like wildfire yet I keep burning bridges I need to burn you yet I don’t want to fight so wrap us in tinfoil and set us alight I went through the looking glass but my reflection was fake I went down a rabbit hole I found my own grave I want a funeral but they’re not really for the dead, are they?


đź”—

I’ll die on this hill I died on this hill I’ll die on these hills I died on these hills they’ll need a map to find my remains


đź”—

I’m at a crossroads now I have to choose again but I don’t want to lie this time and I don’t want to corrupt myself this time so I guess there’s only one road and it doesn’t lead to my family


đź”—

being respectable is a luxury I can’t afford


đź”—

why do you think I care about a “ratio”? most of society already hates me. that’s the worst “ratio” there is.