Depression is eating me slowly.
Depression
is loving skin that isn't his to claim
Cutting it up and naming it, as his...his own beautiful scars.
Why doesn't it hurt?
Blood running down my own skin that soon became skin unknown.
But don't get me wrong for once
the pain has stopped
and i don't feel like i'm drowning anymore
As blood runs down i can feel the pain
disappear, that's why cutting skin
that doesn't feel like my own are scarred up with what i call remorse

Stand tall
Stand proud
They tell us
But how can we stand at all?
When we have been beaten
And broken
And stripped of our identities.
The past is not
Just the past
It is our fears
And our memories.

This is a fight
For basic human rights
And we will not surrender.
Because love
Is about love
And not about
Gender.

We have to break this cycle
The cycle of hate
And the cycle of oppression
Because too many people
Have fallen victim
To depression.

Love is blind
Which makes society deaf
Unable to hear the pleas
Of the people who would rather
Choose death
Than live in fear
In fear of being who they are.

So stand up for what is right
Stand up for those who
Cannot stand for themselves
Those who feel they have
No voice.
What society must learn is that:

Ignorance is a choice

Who you love is not.