Silence fills this space,
Tears tickling my face.
No words leave my lips,
A beat my heart skips.

Memories flash before my eyes,
Family, love, unbreakable ties.
The world has gained weight,
When this boy met this fate.

But these memories might fix the balance,
Of having lost a boy of many talents.
I live them each day now,
Even as I question, "How?"

Love does not die.
Nor family.
It will survive
This tragedy.

We are taught to conceal aspects of ourselves,
When they do not fit society's perception of normal.
Even the negative aspects that ought to be dealt with,
We conceal in a steadfast way, making them more formal.

Denying something makes it stronger,
Even when it is an awful thing.
That is why acceptance and appropriate action is warranted,
Rather than these same songs of denial we sing.

Mental programming, it is killing us all.
Mental programming, it is how we fall.
Mental programming, what an insistent call.
Mental programming - we must stand tall.

Hands brush against each other,
But dare not intertwine.
Their owners fear persecution,
So instead they choose to hide.

Eyes sparkle under sunlight,
Wide smiles sprawl across faces,
Lips quiver in loving desire,
But kissing is dangerous in these places.

A man bestows his husband with a present,
As they sit within a restaurant booth,
But all he can do is smile,
So onlookers won't know his heart's truth.

Under party lights, their arms intertwine,
Their eyes meet, their lips kiss.
They are surrounded by others,
Who only now can engage in this bliss.

They are free from judgement,
Free from danger, hearts soaring,
Lives molding together, passion flowing,
Love crying into the air, it is roaring.

Gunfire erupts, bodies are falling,
Safe places have become unsafe.
It seems we can not love freely,
No, not even in this place.

The pills do not work like promised,
For the thoughts still remain.
They have accomplished little,
Other than to drive me insane.

I feel myself becoming emotionless,
The medication smothers my ability to feel.
It helps me to endure this situation,
But it allows no room to heal.

But these blue pills, at least they are something,
Something to ease my suffering.
These many bad nights have left me terrified,
For I am prone to shuddering.

Having hindered emotions
Is better than feeling anxious or depressed.
So I will take this treatment even if
Happiness also suffers in the pursuit of rest.

L** osing people.
I gniting fires.
F ailing sometimes.
E nduring forever.

You hold onto me, lest I slip away,
I can feel your fear vibrating against my body,
Your lips begging me to forever stay,
As if deeming me strong enough to remain.

But I am slipping.

Finger by finger,
I pull away,
And finger by finger,
I might not stay.

Time will tell this story,
Just wait and see it be created.
The ending of this story, good or bad
Has always been fated.

I am slipping.

Finger by finger,
I pull away,
And finger by finger,
I might not stay.

When I close my eyes, I see faces of people who have left.

I see smiles.
I see memories.
I see leaf piles.
I see passion.
I see small towns.
I see compassion.
I see rosy cheeks.
I see bonfires.
I see happy weeks.

When I open my eyes, I see the faces of those remaining.

I see tears.
I see decline.
I see fears.
I see locked doors.
I see alcohol.
I see unfamiliar floors.
I see red lines.
I see broken homes.
I see dark times.