unnamed

the utter disgust your lies

pack on

astounds me. 

the constant bitter torture

of wanting a why

contradicts the attitude of your facade.

your facade, your illusion,

your constant cycle of 

will they? won’t they?

a continuous loop of 

agony and scars through your senses

of 

crying yourself to sleep and people wondering why you can’t move

of 

loneliness clawing at your deepest organs and your claw marks open with every glance 

of 

tearing every detail about you apart to maybe get a head nod of approval.

the utter disgust of every reason 

you told yourself no.

you were good enough

you are good enough

to ask for respect and understanding and care

to ask for freedom and love and acceptance

to ask for general human decency.

giving in to social ‘graces’ and social ‘norms’

does not help you thrive

it does not help you rise

it does not help you combat the creeps of ‘justice’ and cat-calls

or of ‘no means yes’

or of ‘change yourself to make me feel better’.