I come From the puddles of tears, mosaics of scars, these glaring cracks in between your perfect life, mocking shadows cast by the street lights of your corporate world.
I breathe Fire, transforming rage, lusting lips that touch and dance sing and bridge cauterizing gaps in the heart and soul melting between us.
I live in the downtrodden, in the shame of the man who made 2nd place again... in your heart of hearts where you weren't the one, aren't desired, and felt forlon
I dance Where your fear consists only of loving me not beating me, kissing me, not calling me *** listening, instead of hushing my lips, excitement, heart - most of all my spirit, telling me who to be.
I am A resuscitated catastrophe trapped in this prison of privilege and assumption where affect is a key that opens doors but can't get me out of this cell without compromising my identity.