if heart cells have formed
you take away our rights
you take control of our bodies
though what’s inside
is smaller than a grain of rice

neglected by the ones
who claim they’re pro life
they must be mistaken
there’s no sympathy in sight

to hell with the poor
and those seeking asylum
to hell with healthcare
that’s not a god given right
and to the lives taken
at the hands of a gun
thoughts and prayers to you
i’ll continue to have my fun

why don’t you say it to our face
we mean nothing to you
you simply love control
but that, we already knew

Spill your sickening contradictions.
Try to snow those you perceive as weak.
Distract us with your predictions.

Hide crucial evidence for “sterilization”.
To numb the populous and make them weep.
Spill your sickening contradictions.

Preach what you don’t practice, it’s just operations.
Invoke decree, and let it steep.
Distract us with your predictions.

The poor are there for your oppression.
Smile and wave, lock evil in your keep.
Spill your sickening contradictions.

You “speak for the weak”. What fiction!
We’ve been snowed by those who steep.
Distract us with your predictions.

You repugnant charlatans.
Snow is with your projections.
Spill your sickening contradictions.
Distract is with your predictions.

Through my own tyrannical enforcement
I spew insipid scripted statements
I do not support nor enjoy.
Afraid to be aberrant
Oppressed I am pushed to lecture repugnant contradictions against my own disposition.
Turgid loathing of the fear of dropping the expected facade
Supported by ego and enforced by group-think to mold a homogenous majority.
I hate self pity.
Here marinating in my own self indulgent sorrow.
I am a hypocrite.
Another one of my enemies.
But weakened by forcing myself to state the opposite of what I value,
I open myself to further self destruction.
Through this introspection I might be able to reclaim my social autonomy.
Possibly at the cost of diminution of social impression.
That is held at such divine standards today.
I might become a social martyr.
But at least I’d die complete and confident in my own voice.
It would open me to ridicule.
But I’d rather understand myself and be subjected to hate than to live objectively in a self confined contrived reality.

Hypocrite.
Bipolar.
Soul destroying.
One rule for you, another for me.
***. Kettle. Black.

The words I wish I had the courage to say when you carve away at my soul one word at a time.

You told me suicide shouldn't be romanticized
And self harm isn't beautiful
But
I see you every day
Carving flowers and hearts into your wrists
Arranging pills in neat little lines
And wrapping notes in fraying ribbons before pulling the trigger

You say there's always a reason why not
but you were the one who cried over an ignored text message
Ignored - meaning - no one responded in 2 minutes
After telling me I should get over the fact an old friend texted me
Before killing himself

You told me people who find beauty in the pain are ignorant and apathetic
But I don't think it's too terrible to find artistry
In the parallel lines that tell stories of how my heart is still beating
Even when I wished it hadn't

But go ahead, keep telling the ones who find the beauty in the tragedy that they're wrong
Even though we're the ones who **** tried to die

I have never regretted something so much as the moment I realized I betrayed your trust.