I can’t decide which is worse.
The sickly sweet aroma of
Countless wreaths
Or the burning of
Formaldehyde running through my veins,
It doesn’t matter.
It occurs to me that my senses should not be this alert,
I shouldn’t be able to hear
The muted voices, the mournful eulogy,
I shouldn’t feel the satin lining protecting
My icy flesh.
I wonder what comes next.
Shouldn’t I have moved on?
I feel like I’m late.
My funeral drags on.
I anticipate the moment my body is given back to the earth.
Eternal slumber
Six feet under.

No man is going to change me
I've been through that and now I see clearly
I can love and I can be loved
But this time it will be because of me
Not because of what they want me to be.

Through iniquity I have grown strong
And no one can tell me that this makes me wrong
Finally the person reflected back
Is who I've wanted to be all along
I've finally found where I belong.

I know my heart is good
even if my mind is twisted
Which is why I've stood
in this awkward position
I feel like the moon
in the daytime sky
a sight to question why
it belongs to the night