a thousand different sad songs

all of which are true

but you don't know what sadness is

until you've got something to lose

and the only thing thats left is this

hopelessness and you

so you start to look for answers

from this thing inside your chest

but you realize with all your motivation

that she up and left

so your stuck

just you and an empty room

so, you pray and you pray

and you search for an answers

then you wait and you wait

and then you start to pander

would it be a mistake

to just leave it all behind

cuz ive been having this dream

where i jump off of a bridge

see the clear, blue water

but then wake before i feel it

does anyone else feel the way i feel

like it would be better if i just disapeared

if i wasn't around there'd be no more tears

like God would love me better

if i wasn't stuck down here

i'm too proud to admit

im scared

I am an ant on the earth. Insignificant.

I am a bee at my job. Busy.

I am a butterfly to my family. Beautiful.

I wonder if I am a pest. Do I bug you?

Sometimes

I go to write

and there’s a fire

in my brain

i can write

and burn to death

or extinguish the fire

and mourn the unwritten

The piano music has started again. It might be less sinister, if only it weren’t so hauntingly, terribly beautiful.

I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on; I gave up all hope of being rescued at least two days ago, when I still had hands and feet.

He must be a surgeon; he hasn’t used any anesthesia, but he he has kept me alive and aware through each of the amputations. The sick bastard even made me watch as he turned my hands into a pair of white-nailed, pink gloves.

I think he wears them while he plays.

----------------------

© 2017 dustygrein

chocolate silk

draped over

inky cream

delicate seashell

pressed to rib

long form

read slowly

warm scent

inhaled deeply

drowsy heaven

now found

when you fell asleep at my house,

i traced my finger down your cheek

over the freckles sprinkled across your face

over your hidden dimples

over your sweet cherry lips

i leaned down,

feeling your breath on my cheek

your soft lips parted

and it took all i had

not to kiss you.

because we're just friends,

you and i,

we braid each others hair

sleepover every other day

whisper velvet secrets

but you smell so sweet

and when i look into your eyes,

i forget to breathe

your dimples

were they left by the deep kiss of an angel?

at school when you run to him

and he kisses you

you look at him with your soft doe eyes

i clench my fists

my fingernails dig into my skin

until they draw blood

you're so cruel

when will you realize?

that you torture me

with your smile

and

your

dimples

My grandparents. They are conservative, Fox 'news' watching, trump supporting, LGBTQIA+ hating, people. I love them, I do, I can't blame them for the way they were raised, but still, ignorance does not excuse racism. People are raised with toxic ideas all the time, and once they are adults, it is up to them to educate themselves.

My school. I go to a predominately white school, with a Native American as my mascot, I am used to pretty ignorant people, I hear the N-word and F-word thrown around like it's nothing, and the teachers do nothing about it. My classmates have said blatantly racist things to me, and I always, and I mean always, feel that I am in the wrong for taking it seriously as if I am the problem.

My point? I have to watch my mouth in front of my grandparents, I can't even discuss race unless I am prepared for them to spin it into some kind of debate. I also have to watch my mouth at my own school. Even in front of my all-white friends. For some odd reason, I feel invalid for talking about race in front of my own friends! I feel guilty for censoring a big part of me. I am a victim of racism all the time, and yet, if I talked to my grandparents about it, they would explain it away. If I talked to my friends about it, they would quickly change the subject. Even now I feel someone is going to defend them, I don't know, it's f*cked up.