I look at my life and see two roads.
And I stand against the current, I'm standing between them and hoping I won't have to choose.
I'm a laundry basket of jealousy, frustration and worry.
I'm constantly walking on egg shells because I don't want anything to change.
I don't want to upset you
I don't want to anger you
I don't want to lose you.
So I hide behind someone who isn't fully myself.
Because you know not yet who you are. And I guess I don't too.

We are carcasses in this life and our paths will show what we choose to show. But your emptiness frightens me and I feel it my duty to fill you.
But I'm torn between someone who cares and someone who can't. I'm torn because the perfect piece of paper I once was is no longer something salvageable.
You aren't the same. So I guess I'm not too.

But I turn to something that isn't stable to help me out of my own battles. I turn to a floating piece of plastic and expect it to help me stay afloat.

These two roads are both a part of myself. These roads aren't a mangled lie or a twisted fib,
They are who I am, just not to the full extent.
You aren't you to the full extent.
And I guess, I'm not too.

Like a rock in a stream or a tree in a herd of antelope,
I stood.
Their noise surrounding me, beating me, hurting me
But all I could do was stay.
In my own little bubble you've made.
So much effect you have on me;
That I can find myself crying in a room of staring faces who wonder what on earth I could be.

It's actually pathetic.
She fell for some *******
       someone taken
       some gay guy
       someone out of her league
        some *******
How could she be so stupid?
She did it again at 9 years old
                            at 10
                                 13
                                 16
                                  21
Like a pattern of chaotic yet predictable events.
She knew it was coming: the pointlessness of it all. It would always end up the same way.
Why can't she be normal? she asked
She asked that every single day.

**** your flowery words
they, just like you,
don't mean ****.

Half a hundred orphans
Orphaned by choice
By shame
"God's will"
"In his name"
"Abominations, every one"
"Abomination"
That's my son

Someone's daughter -
Late one night
Looking for a bite, no fight
Gunned down
In the name of god
For the love of God
No fight

Dead. On a club dance floor
One dead, two dead
Dozens more
Alive -
Orphans parents live
They give
They grieve
They cry

Changing minds
Changing clothes
Changing lives
Goodbye for real, not by choice this time
One man -
One gun
One night

No one could put up a fight.

Goodbye - Mom and Dad say
We didn't mean goodbye that *way