One stone overturned and I've got a whole quarry to go
Thirty seconds go by and I've still got three life sentences to serve
I've got so much to do with no one to help me
So this goes out to whatever is trying to **** me
You better do a better job next time
Because I'm at my limit

You took away our voices before
we had the chance to create them
That any thought spoken louder than a
whisper was something to be ashamed of
An opposing opinion resulting in dismissal
a reconfirmation of low self esteem
Or met with disproportional anger
the discussion; one sided was simply yelling
Never needing a reasoning behind why
your opinions were correct; you’re the adult
Expecting us to swallow everything you
said without question. Who gave you this power?
How did you come to sit on a hand crafted pedestal
look around with ignorant eyes, creating false truths
From your own opinions. That we must abide by
or keep silent for in our silence there is submission

From this came my pain and lack of acceptance
survival depended on hiding; learning to act
Through this I lost the chance to become an individual
Quite shells to take your anger out on
Rather than discovering individuality
My sole goal was invisibility to keep pain at bay
detachment tying me back from creating myself
While you stand to the side oblivious to consequences
Now I stand in the rubble of the past
fumbling to put the pieces together; dissolving cracks
Scraping the filth away to find what I desperately hid
a constant battle to reject not myself but the
ideas that you have ingrained within me
While the bullets have ceased;
the rebuilding is just emerging  
Trying to accept myself when you never would

tears are unlike tigers fed by buddhists: oh god... i wish i was a woman, then i’d not have cried my tears drunk, but sober, like any woman does, like any woman has... and my correction what inhabited by tartars fighting the teutons with the tartar i took as blood-relatives and the tuetons as politically-related; ivan made the entitlements of the title of tsar as worth cenroship of the coupon for the lean meat in hunting for war among the pole’s marshall law in dostoyevsky. be warned... my blood runs decided into the harvest of wheat and sweat, rather than the parlor room and chandelier corsets; while boney m filled the rest - inviting islam into europe by ignoring poland.*

so drunk they want a rewrite...
i missed the joke...
got a rewrite instead...
was i plagiarising?
i don’t know... you know.
originally intended like sunrise...
instead taken as copyist of sun-and-orange...
can’t be repeated... but i wanted it said...
but they didn’t want it said... they wanted it unsaid...
wanted it seen but unseen and therefore thought
and when transmitted not really thought...
just willed... comparatively ingrained and lost too...
it was a charlie murray quote that got me...
i thought i was testimony... oh right... now i remember...
gay **** is really emasculating...
it’s like watching 90 minutes of football...
gay **** does that to you... really there
among ******* videos...
i just like watching the eyes...
i make eye-contact...
and it’s almost bowtie with the suffocating gag
of the girl...
but no... it’s more like niqab in the night... joke...
******* is more emasculating than football...
honest to god hear my prayer - while heterosexual
*** is really discouraging from transition
of daughter to ****** to ***** to wife to mother...
nibbled ******* unless it was islamic hide & seek!
ah... call mohammed... i need my head chopped off!