I see your words
but they swim past my eyes
and dart past meaning,
a fleeting fish from the abyss
of a mind.
A mind that has alway been kind,
That has always been softly spoken,
a mind awoken from a slumber of slurs,
and artificial words,
that created artificial worlds.

Yet even when our worlds collapse,
You insist on the playful insult,
and the teasing tone we take,
it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
But we don’t care,
You scream out a name unknown to me
as I whisper out a prayer ,
“This isn't fair.”
And we hear your silence like the echo of a drum
with its constant ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
of emptiness, and loneliness and lowliness
along with every bad emotion that has ever been felt
by a teenager going through her faze of
hatred and self inflicted torture of the mind.

But through the dark of universes,
I hear your speech,
with words that shoot past my ears like stars
leaving a trail of chalky stardust
and dusty letters
to be unremembered by.
Galaxies glide by in this suspended time
and I realize that the words on your lips are not ours,

But mine.