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they said that everyone else but me could see the light
that held faith, and love, and hope
and i told them
*then consider me blind
When you go to church, they say that you must bring your bible
So she brought her Jack Daniels
When you go to church, they say that you must dress modestly
So she wore tights under her two inch skirt
When you go to church,  they say you must have faith
And because she didn't have any she brought the closest thing she had to faith;  her old records
When you go to church, they say you go to be saved but that's obviously a lie because it was already too late for her
She went to church to visit an old ghost she called Mother
Her mother would have her New Testament
And would be wearing a long skirt
And had more faith than the size of the U.S.
When she saw her, her mother would cry and make her feel worst than she already did
That was what the Jack Daniels was for
And her mother would say her skirt was too short and she would argue she had tights
Then in the late of the night, when she would try to sleep and couldn't she would put on her old records
When you go to church, they say you shouldn't be afraid
Obviously "they" had never met her mother
 Aug 2014 Margaret
Aquinas
I asked myself today why I still get upset when thinking of you and it's because your poison still lingers in my lungs
 Aug 2014 Margaret
Aquinas
It's good to let your heart out
To fly above the crystal sea

Let your thoughts reflect off the waters
To see what you're meant to be

But one thing I see lately
To all of you who read

Write about a happy thing
To see what it may leave

On your face or on others
To feel what you want to feel

Write about a happy thing
To write love is to heal
 Aug 2014 Margaret
Aquinas
Home
 Aug 2014 Margaret
Aquinas
This house is filled with faces
Ones that I cannot stand
They rule the roost in places
Under beds holding hands

Like children with scissors tall
Running in hopes
That the blades will fall
Around necks like ropes

This house is filled with faces
I feel compressed, congested
My ears are filled with your disgust
My heart rusted without your love
But I hope one day when you're gone
They won't find what you did to me

No clues, no traces
 Aug 2014 Margaret
Aquinas
I want to be fluent in your body language
I'm craving to speak the words of your fingers but I'm running out of
time
I need to know all the adverbs and adjectives that describe your ******
features
Tell me, please, the nouns you like to be
called
When your chest is against
mine
I'm scared of the verbs you'll do to
me
But I'm infatuated with your invisible
lust
So it excuses all your grammatical
crimes
Thank you all so much for getting this trending! I'm really very surprised and happy!
I tend to get stares... Looks... The occasional "are you gay?" With a quizzical look of disgust.
Well, to answer your question, no, I am not gay.
In a society built around judgment and stilted above common sense,
Being gay would mean that I'd have to find women utterly disgusting, flick my wrists, speak with funny and awkward inflections, right?
Do you think I speak with funny and awkward inflections?
Good! Because I'm so not gay.
Being gay would mean that I love to shop, well I hate it!
My fashion sense does not exceed that of a box of colorful crayola crayons melting away in the blistering Las Vegas sun because you see, I don't live in San Francisco, or New York,
or anywhere "gay" people live.
I am not gay.
Being gay would mean that I am immoral but I can assure you, moralistically speaking, that morals are what keep me routinely from listening to Lady Gaga, who I've heard, despite her catholic upbringing, is a devout devil worshiper and I sure as hell don't worship Satan!
Oh no, I am not gay.
My father once told me, in his manliest tone that if I ever became sweet
or my tank profusely filled with sugar
that he'd disown me and rid me of his home.
However last time I checked,
I don't have a tank
and one lick of my tanned brown skin would reveal that I am in fact quite salty!
Salty, as defined by Urban Dictionary, means to be ******.
Bitter. Angry.
Well father, there aint nothing sweet about my wrath.
I'm infuriated.
I'm angry not because I'm not able to fulfill the holistic criterion society has built in order to be gay,
No, I am more upset that there is actually a set of rules dictating whether or not someone is gay.
Now listen to me when I tell you,
I am not gay
I am not gay because I have yet to inject myself of substances with an unsterile needle for all purposes of getting high.
No, I have yet to discover my last ****** partner was diagnosed with *** and that I may very well have the virus.
No, I have yet to interiorly decorate my bedroom with the warm crimson fluid that is my blood because some punk at school thought it was cute to label me a queer.
I have yet to be gay because being gay in today's society means I am reckless. I am promiscuous. I am a *******.
Well, guess what society,
I am not gay.
I am, in fact, a man, who is not your personal show dog for your fashion approval that you can tote around in some cute Gucci bag.
I am a man, who can still appreciate the beautiful magnificence that is a curve when he sees one no matter the person's gender.
I am a man who, despite what you may be expecting,
is a man who, no matter how hard you try to box me in a confined image,
is a man who, will fight to freely be in love with who he wants to be in love with,
who is a man who is not gay
but a man who loves men.
I am not gay.
..
Totally gay.
 Aug 2014 Margaret
RF
Gay
 Aug 2014 Margaret
RF
Gay
If I wasn't gay would people care?
Would they actually let me breath the same air?
Could I actually go to school,
without people being so cruel?
Could I live in a world with no hate?
Maybe people would love me if I was straight.
It's not as easy as people think.
I can't just go to a shrink.
I didn't choose to be this way.
You really think I'd want to be gay?
I don't want attention,
I don't want fame.
This isn't some sort of game.
I am who I am and thats okay.
Most people don't see it that way.
I only wish I could be the same.
To have a wedding and it not be shamed.
I want to have kids and not be judged.
I don't want my reputation smudged.
But apparently I'm different now.
Sick in the head somehow.
Therapy and shock treatment for something that can't be fixed.
How did I get put into this mix?
Toxic and tragic,
that's my life.  
It's like I was stabbed in the back with a knife.
I'm gay,
what's wrong with that?
I get treated like some rat.
Using your holy books and your religion.
To fight against something that makes no difference.
I want to be a human not a punching bag.
Always getting called a ***.
Let that word have power and it gets to you.
But that words as good as whatever is stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
I love being this way.
I don't care what you say.
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