my soles are copper nearly
black, pudgy and blistering
heels cracked from heat
and hateful words,
my hands aren’t much better.
I soak them with epsom salts and tears
some nights I ask the sky,
why have you given me empathy -
what can I do with it
in a country soaked in blood?

Freedom is
when your
conscience
doesn’t
accuse you.

If it doesn't make
you a nicer person
it's not love.

Am I offering myself a knife to the heart?
Have I unsheathed my dagger?
I think not, I think not
Have you accepted your role, your part?
Would you admit your weakness, your stagger?
I think not, I think not

Deprecate my sense of taste and saunter away
Did you think I'd lay down and take it?
I think not, I think not
Putting my life on hold every single day
Did you think I could fake it?
I think not, I think not

My soul is music, and my heart is sound
Could you feel my past haunting your remark?
I think not, I think not
I looked for your empathy, it couldn't be found
Did you care if your words were stark?
I think not, I think not

Let me tell you this one time
Will you listen to such a girl?
I think not, I think not
What's been taken, was always mine
Did you notice when you broke my world?
I think not, I think not...