The Same


I wonder

About my sanity

How I am perceived

And why

They all treat me so.

The co-existing

Society that I face,

Ass holes capable

Of the rape

I witness

Of my own powdered words.

The perseverance


Because it is not

What they wanted

To hear with

Their closed

Minds and hearts

All seeing the same.

Do they honestly

Expect me

To write the

Hard truth

Not claim it,

Because it wasn't

Good enough?

Do they honestly

Think that I

Don't hide myself

Behind my paper,

For the very same

Reason that I

Write in the

Blood that

They forced from

The old wounds,

Opened anew

By the mistreatment

I receive

About myself

And who I love?

Could they truly

See only

The ink spots

Splattering me

As red paint?

Connecting it to

Me, only because

I am different

Than they are

Because I don't

Form to their

Controlling society

Where I am wrong,

They are right,

And the world

Is made of lies.

Because I constantly

Have a paper

Shining in my eye,

A poem forming

About them

And how they,

Being controlled

As they are,

Can't seem to

See that

The blood we shed

Is colored

The same.

The same.

The same.

But I am different.

With the sad

Smile upon my

Own face,

The blood pouring

From my

Uninjured skin,

Breaking and pulsing

Within it's veins

Threatening the life

I live

And who I am.

The envy

Discoloring my

Skin to look like

The martian

From your

Favorite cartoon.

The thoughts

Pushing through

The curtain

With my hands

Shaking upon my

Lap, while the

Rest of me

Remains perfectly

Still and firmly

Planted where I

Am with that

Same blood

That you bled

For me

On that day

Below my feet

And shoes

Where it stains

My feet red

And mud

Seeps into my


Where I am

The same.

The same.

The same.

But I am different.