Nothing but junkies

High off of ill-given attention

"Love me, love me, watch me til I drop!"

Oblivious to their stupid condescension

"I would love to see you drop dead" may be a threat

But they don't care as long as you keep watching

Keep feeding the fire until it's bright burns out

Let them devour all the smoke that started off the scotching

"If you hate the holy monk, you'll hate his robes"

Who cares if you don't like it as long as you're praying?

They love to be seen but don't love look

Who gives a shit when eyes don't hear what they're saying?

(A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hoosiers https://youtu.be/MqRUDICKqL8 )

We all are being held together by threads

It's so easy for us to sever ties

What happens when we get cut off

I doubt anyone actually flies

I know you don't believe

But you held my hand to pray

You asked me to walk on a path to get better

It's too late, we went the wrong way

I can't untangle the strings

Please cut them off so I can be free

I know I can't fly, instead I'll just drop

Drown in my sorrows in the sea

I loved her. I loved her so much, that I didn't like letting her out of my sight.

But things changed. She would smile, but it wouldn't reach her eyes. I would look at her, but whenever she saw me she would look away.

It hurt me. If she no longer loved me, why was she still here? I came to the conclusion, she must have still loved me, but had a hard time showing it. I had to make up for her lack of affections.

I started hugging her more. Grabbing into her hand while walking. Even giving more verbal compliments, but she still seemed miserable.

So I thought we could stay in the house more. We watched movies from our bed, ate dinner on the couch. I thought it was more comfortable, and I truly felt even more in love with her. But each day that passed I saw her move less and less, barely smile. It wasn't long before she hardly moved, the only reason I knew she wasn't a doll was the faint pulse I listened to as she slept.

I woke up to no pulse, but a piece of paper. I unfolded and was met with scribbles that I had to squint my eyes to read. It was a short note, she must have used the rest of her time packing her things.

'I had to escape'.

She tries to talk sweet

But makes me feel foolish

Condescends my actions with a smile

Makes me feel ghoulish

I'm not your daughter I'm your doll

Who you want to dress up and control

Pretend it's my choice but that's not true

You with a smile, own me as a whole

I don't have a choice

Sometimes I forget the pain you bring

But you hug me and I feel a knife go in my back

We both ignore the red sting

The fifth Alice was a lonely girl from Wonderland

She walked, around all alone, nobody in hand

Her only desire was to finally be adored

And at last, she got her wish, and was never bored

But soon all the attention made her wish that they were dead

Once again, her wish was granted and all of them bled

Alice ran into the woods and was never see again

Sometimes you still hearing her crying in the lonely rain

Sorry I'm just a low-life

But I really mean it when I say

This is bullshit! Seriously what the fuck?!

I'll take being scum then dealing with you any day!

You make me sick to me stomach

Just because you think I'm so below you!

Guess what asshole?

You're just spewing shit I already knew.

Not every piece of fiction has an LGBTQ+ character(s), and it doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes I'll be reading, a character will be mentioned to be gay, and a few possible things happen sometimes.

1. The only reason they're there is to be The Gay One. They have no other personality, except for "Yep, I'm gay" like it's fine if it a large, important part of your identity, but people can have other traits.

2. They die. "Hi, I'm gay-" and boom, dead. Not a fan, makes me scared that if I talk about my sexuality in public that will bring upon the end of the world.

3. They're creepy. It's fine to have LGBTQ+ villains/anti-hero's (I admit a lot of those are my favorite characters) but if they act weird/inappropriate relating to their gender/sexual identity, in a way that makes it seem against people who identify as that, I can no longer read that book.

Are there more? Most definitely yes, but I can't remember them at the moment.

Susan might have seemed like a normal older woman to most. She donated to the PTA despite having no kids of her own, volunteered at soup kitchens, and often made baked goods when any type of event was happening.

Everyone else was in shock to see her forced into a police car as bodybag after bodybag was taken from her house and pack into the back of a truck. But I wasn't surprised.

I knew she wasn't right when we first moved into neighborhood, I was seven and shy.

She greeted my parents with a smile and platter of cookies. Then looked down at me, hiding behind my dad's legs.

Susan bent down to my eye level and her smile went wider. She greeted herself, and asked my name. My parents had to tell her.

"Well, Dylan," She stretched out my name. "You can call me Suzy. Do you want a cookie?"

I didn't want a cookie. My parents apologized for my shyness, saying I would grow used to her in time.

Now ten years later, seeing her in cuffs, I'm glad I never got comfortable around her.

Growing up, I tried to limit my time around her, but it was difficult. She was always sitting on her porch, a book in hand, although she never read it because Susan was always watching. She invited into her house, tried to push baked goods into my hands, and call her Suzy.

I would say something along the lines of "Sorry Ms. Susan, I have plans." Before escaping. She would always frown when I called her Susan.

Her behavior was odd, but never to anyone else. I admit I felt relief seeing her be led away. Until she turned her head, caught my eye, and smiled.