💜 ~ Kier ~ 💜

I don’t want to be better,

I don’t want to feel different from now.

“But you’ll be happier, you’ll—“

I don’t want that.

If I lose my sadness,

What will that make me?

A mindless smile who can’t feel?

My sadness is me,

My tears are my way of speaking—

And you want to mute me?

Deafen my screams and turn me to static?

I

Don’t

Want

That.

I don’t need to be better,

I don’t need to feel better.

I don’t need the touch of an expert to feel better.

Fuck—

I don’t even want to be better.

Better is empty,

And not even a hollow resounding emptiness that echoes with hurt.

It’s just empty.

A void of where the hurt used to be—

The hurt that is a constant reminder of my pain,

Of the suffering that comes with life.

I do not wish to be better,

I wish to be worse.

I want to hurt more, and more—

I want to be worse.

The very thought of being better is revolting,

It’s like Adam asking to have his rib back,

It’s Eve asking for her autonomy gone—

Better is not better for me.

If I’m better, who will care for me?

No one will care for the pain of someone who’s supposedly healed—

And I don’t want that.

I want to be this horrid clump of insecurities and hatred,

For if you take that away—

You’re left with just the static of a useless man.

So please,

Listen.

I.

Don’t.

Want.

To.

Be.

Let that flag burn.

All fifty stars,

And all thirteen stripes.

Fifty states,

Thirteen colonies,

Two-hundred and fifty years.

All this time,

And still their hatred reigns supreme.

They cannot handle watching their flag burn,

But if their brother wants to be their sister,

Then they all say,

“Let that fag burn.”

Six colors raised up high,

They say that month’s name is a sin.

But of course when it comes Fourth of July,

Then out comes their American pride.

Oh, but it’s not like they’re homophobic or anything,

They just don’t want this agenda pushed on the kids.

Because if their kids were queer,

Then they might end up as that flag.

Burnt to a crisp for being a fag.

Am I saying too much?

Is this message not clear?

Is this fag being a little too queer?

Well I’m sorry,

But what would you have me do?

Stay silent and cry?

Or stay silent and die?

Really there is no choice,

This isn’t something we can go to the middle ground for.

Don’t give us some rights,

Don’t treat us half right,

Or is the Bible only a weapon for you to wield?

Treat thy neighbor however the fuck you want,

That’s what God wants isn’t it?

It’s what you all want right?

But that’s not what they mean,

Why would it be?

After all, they said they’re not homophobic.

They just, “don’t want the gay agenda pushed on their children.”

See, they’re looking out for their kids that’s all.

And if their kid isn’t lovable,

Then off to the streets they go!

How fun isn’t it?

They want to protect their kids so bad,

They know they’d be safer out on the streets.

This country is such a wonderful piece of shit,

Do you ever feel like “sometimes” is too many times?

It only happens sometimes.

I only break down sometimes.

I only hate myself sometimes.

I do so many horrid things to my mind,

But it’s only sometimes.

I mean,

Other times I’m so overjoyed.

I get so excited and happy,

And I love my friends and life.

And those are the best,

And honestly,

Those times are a lot more than sometimes.

But somehow,

Somehow—

Sometimes feels like too much.

Sometimes can be twice a month,

Maybe even thrice or more—

Not that much,

So I shouldn’t worry anymore.

But it gets so overwhelming sometimes.

A day stretches and lengthens—

Hours feeling like years.

But then again,

It’s only sometimes.

And like I said,

Other times—

Most of the time life feels so good.

I feel so overjoyed,

So happy,

So loved—

But a flower’s petals only lasts for so long.

The hideous creature of skin and bone,

Lies in the forest while full of woe.

It hollers and cries,

And starves itself so it may die.

Full of fear and full of woe,

The creature of skin and bone is its own worse foe.

It lays in the forest,

So that no creature may know,

That it lies to try and die.

Skin and bone with its mouth sewn,

With no one to hear their woes,

And no one to watch it atone.

For its life is a curse,

As all it does is get worse.

Oh hideous creature of skin and bone,

No creature cares for your woes.

Lie in the forest alone with your tears,

As you cry and cry,

Force, force, force it down your throat.

Don’t, don’t, don’t let it out your stomach.

Starve, starve, don’t starve, don’t starve.

Food, food, you need to eat more food.

Weight, weight, your weight in gold is pennies.

Why, why, why can’t you just eat?

Food, food, food, it’s just food.

Why, why, why do you starve yourself?