Dear Brendon Urie
this impossible year your songs were the only thing that put vigor in my blood, and feeling in my limbs. Until we feel alright. In my darkest hours your songs made my skeleton want to dance, made it dance, it always danced to your music. Always forever I will dance to your music.
Dear Brendon Urie
I'm all dressed up and naked. A tiktok, that was all it was, innocently scrolling through tiktok with my friend (though one could argue with her feed it is never innocent), I saw it. Do you know when you have the dream that you're naked at school?  This is a hundred fold worse. I was not naked, but something tore certainty from my body. The music that had help build be up burned my structure. You can set yourself on fire
Dear Brendon Urie
Girls love girls and boys. I came out as lesbain a few months ago. You gave me a space to explore that, you said ‘its ok to be queer’, then you punched me across the face. Homophobe was not usually even close to the row of adjectives I reserved for you but now it is.
Dear Brendon Urie
Just another LA Devotee. I thought for a second that tik tok was like voter fraud in Wisconsin, false claims made by uneducated people. Then the truth hits, no women lies about ****** harassment, no fan lies about your racist monologe at a concert, nobody lies about someone saying the n word, no one lies about you laughing at a ablelist joke. You are not as shiny as you appear. The glitter dancing on the skin. The decades might've washed it out.
Dear Brendon Urie
It's better to burn than to fade away. For years I have watched each of my heros burn
Dear J.K. Rowling,
Dear Gloria Steniem.
Every author I ever loved homophic.
Dear Kevin Clash
Dear Michael Jackson
Dear Bill Cosby
Every artist I every loved accused of pedophila
Dear lance armstrong
Dear basketball players
Every athlete I aspired to be like a drug used
Dear Bill Clinton
Every politican I admired accused of ****** assault
You have all proved to me that there are no heroes that there is no one to look up to.
I am sad more than angry, sad that you couldn’t be bothered to love the world as they love you.

I have paraphrased
my struggle on this page.
To find some meaning

A dog is dead in Portland Oregon on the highway.
No one does anything after all it’s not their dog.
The owner, a boy, will only have the name tag to cry over.
The lost
A woman dies after ten years in the senior home.
The staff bury her with a plain tombstone.
No family comes to weep over her grave.
The forgotten
A teacher hides their students under the desks and in cabinets.
There is nowhere for them to hide.
They are shot five times in the abdomend.
The willing sacrifice.
A young man stands at a walkway, which overlooks a highway.
He secures a paper to the bridge.
He jumps.  
The fighters
Do you hear the people screaming?
Close your eyes and listen.
Listen.

the word die used to
just slid, simply,
with nothing to hide.
Now the word die
sits in my throat,
like a pill half swallowed.
I'm not sure whether to bring it down or up.

My tears trail one another
mixing, and intwining,
asking each other:
Why is she crying now?

I love you,
no matter how much I hate you.
Its just that simple,
just that complicated,
and just that amazing.

the words I meant to say
are crumbling.
Come get them before they're blown to ash