Turning the tables what could that be like?
Would you be the one crying all night?
Would you wake up wishing you could just stop opening your eye’s yeah I wonder what would that be like?
Could let me hit on you, call you name then laugh at your pain?
Tell me what would you be like? If I turned the tables on you let’s see how you do.
Your day start with the regret you live, your mother and how she unforgives, your father and he makes you stand and picks at you for not being a men.
It kicks you to look at the mirror and kills you to look down at between both your elbows and hands.
You cover your wrist as you leave to start another day, you wonder why should it be this way.
As you walk through the dazes fear and anxiety clouds your mind, how you wish it was your time.
You sigh as you make your way down a hallway you know is your hell.
The names are called and the voice tease you for your exists. All the same oh well.
We make eye contact and you begin your wishes that today I’ll miss you, you think about how we were friends but know your nothing but shit on my plan.
You wish that I would say “Hi”, all the same maybe be nice, but you’re a realist and there no way, you can’t think about that lie.
The punches fly and you run and hide, they laugh and boo; you scream and cry.
You make it to class quite because the teacher thinks you’re a nut, you never tell no one would care.
The day passes you deal with the harassment, silently you stand wonder you aren’t you dead.
The day ends and your locker is tagged the words “Fag Bag” put neatly aren’t you mad. But you run down the hall out the door, you can’t go home not any more; you’re tired of the pain, the hurt, and denial. Why should you live when no one really gives…
The razor comes out then your lights go out and you wonder how it would be it you could turn the tables on me.