My Pain Is…
Being accused of crimes I did not commit
Being abused for beliefs I did not hold
Being assaulted for values I did not exist.
The viciousness and hatred in your words
Dead like roses
And not knowing whom to believe.
My uncertainty, my agony, laughing at Pig Haggerty.
Not seeing how I can end this.
The crease on my forehead
The extra 50 pounds I carry
The crooked teeth and pointy ear
The complexity; misunderstood, unseen.
Going to sleep and hoping it lasts forever
And knowing my poems will never have a voice
And nobody wants to listen.
How I bathe myself in self-prescription
b.i.d
Finally washing up on the shore.
Knowing nothing means anything. Quietly, I break-harm myself.
My pain is a force too fierce to be sublimated
And wounds that time will never heal.
My pain is me.
