We are not born with hatred swirling around in our skull
It is something that is built within the structures of our environments
This civil war whose bombs wake us up in the morning
and whose grenades disturb our sleep.

We are not born with ******/******/******/****/****/**** on our tongues
This is the product of this billboard society that teaches us
to spit daggers rather slip our tongues around and caress

We are not born in fear of the other
It is not genetics that implore us to engage
in the ongoing battles between
     fat and skinny
     black and white
     religious and faithless
     straight and curved

Our world is a wasteland
filled with our soulless cardboard cutouts
doing nothing more than occupying space.
We examine our fingertips in search of identity
and are shown skin that has been scrubbed smooth
by the buffers created to stop our minds from
expanding too wide and our dreams from growing too big.
We look to the too-distant stars for directions but must turn to a foreign map
to tell us where home is.

What we are born with is excitement.
With adventure running through our veins.
With eyes the color of flawless wonder
and skin scarred with wisdom.

We were born with longing.
Longing for a great escape.
For rebirth.

Staring out into the solar system
The illuminated banner scattered across the black sky
Heavenly bodies so numerous
I can’t begin to name them all
So bewildered I sit and wonder
Why these worlds so far away
Fade in and out of existence
To my unaided vision
Yet I’m comforted to know
That even in the furthest reaches
Of the most unknown parts of the universe
There are lights to guide the way

This village of two hundred and fifty six people probably won’t ever be ready for you.
Your secret will haunt the community for as long as it takes them to pretend you don’t exist
At first people may scream and cry
Fathers will load their shotguns and little old ladies will lock their doors
Afraid that you are bold enough to profess your love for another man
But behind the bolted windows and petrified stares
Know that you are not alone
Supporters will come from the most unknown places
Someday we can hope this place will change
But that doesn’t mean you have to wait to be honest with yourself
This place will always be filled with gossip
Where news is spread between hair dryers at the local salon
And political conservatism is ten times bigger then the grocery store
In this small corner of the world, where kind words and friendly greetings are waiting on every street corner you will meet the disgusting face of hatred
But when hatred dies, love will come up from it’s ashes

Your cold body is contorted on the soft carpet
Spurts of thick blood come from the heart I have carved out of your chest
My warm fingers bare the scarlet stain as evidence of what I’ve done
And no amount of scrubbing can take it away

I’ve become a paralyzed creature, who doesn’t understand how to respond
I played around with the heaviest words in my vocabulary
Not realizing the power that they had
Unaware that I was unready to say them

I never loved you; at the time I thought the feeling was there
Now you lie unresponsive
As I slowly walk away from the mess I’ve made
And leave you in the past
The words I used to stab at your heart, the words I didn’t mean, echoing in my mind
“I love you”

The pigeon dove's
is my favourite sound,
the quintuple coo
not so profound

I'm so ******* stupid.
You aren't good for me,
Like poison.
But I yearn for you.
I cry over you.
I want you.
I need you.
Almost as much as I need air.

I was a stupid 16 year old,
Falling in love with you.
Here I am now,
Almost 20,
Still madly in love with you.

I'm so ******* stupid.
You're no good for me.
Like the apple that tempted Eve.
It ****** up paradise.
You ****** up my life.
You ****** up my mind.
You ****** up my heart.
But I still want you.
I still love you.

I'm so ******* stupid.

I remember the day we first met.

Two scrawny, energetic young scamps too excited to make the transition into our education.
From day one, we were together.
All day, every day.
People asked us if we were brother and sister.
And everytime, our answer quickly escaped our grins...
                       Yes.

Let's fast-forward to the third grade.
Our heads were still innocent enough not to know the flaws
we would eventually have but I was still mature enough to know
that when you walked up to me that morning with
tears and terror streaming down your face,
letting the words "My mom left us" seep through your painful gasps.

I was nine years old when I first saw someone's heart break.
I tried to sweep the pieces back up and glue them back together...but I failed.
It wasn't until later that night that my mom woke me
in the middle of the night to explain that your mother didn't leave,
but went to prepare a safe hiding spot from your father's fists.
We talked on the phone every night until you came back.
The stupid chatter of whatever a nine year old even thinks about
tying up the phone lines for hours at a time.
That was the first time you told me you loved me
It was the first time first time I ever believed it.

Now let's fast forward to the seventh grade.
Junior high.
A boiling *** of hormones and hate.
By this point, I hadn't talked to you in two months.
The judging panel of life had already confirmed what I knew was to happen.
Bubbly, boy-crazy blond girl rises to the top
Insecure, boy-crazy ****** boy sinks like a boulder.

I was thirteen when I first felt my heart break.
My eyes were opened to the **** life was ready to dump on my doorstep.
I knew that lines were to be drawn
I just never would have guessed we'd be on opposite sides.
I got called ******.
You called yourself silent.

Next, let's talk about year that ended everything: senior year.
A year of endings.
Graduation from the hell hole that was high school.
Leaving my mother for the first time since birth
Leaving my friends since the first day we stepped onto the playground together
thirteen years earlier.

We started off strong.
We were determined to end our school years the way we started them: together.
We would go off to the same college, get an apartment,
and everything was going to be fine.

Six months had passed
We hadn't spoken for one of them.
You had me pegged as your sworn enemy.
I was terrified to wake up in the morning
because I knew I would have to look at you
instead of seeing you.

I was eighteen when you broke my heart for the final time.
Your army of farm-town morally upright teenagers
had done their best to destroy me.
But I still walked. I still dragged myself around,
****** and bruised from your attacks.
I thought things were cooled down.
I just wanted out.
Then you said it.
That final day.
You called me a ******
and said you hated me.

Now, almost a year later, whenever I think of you my eyes start welling up.
Your words, spoken and unspoken, still sting.
I know that I hate you.
But I don't know why I still care.

What I do know is that I don't need you.
I've met the most wonderful group of people
far greater than I could have ever imagined.
But still, whenever I'm with them, I'm thinking of you.
Wondering what I need to do for them that I didn't do for you.
I just hope their feet are more stable than yours.
I can't handle anyone else running away.