Finding My Strength - Sorry, Mister

There's a person, a kind-eyed person

Who thinks I'm haunted, who thinks I'm sad

He doesn't know that I don't belong in this life

He doesn't know that I'm just myself

There's a person, a kind-eyed person

Who thinks his kindness will make him great

But he doesn't know of the exploitation

He doesn't know of the searing hate

The divine feminine within my soul

Calls for blood and death untold

I'm a coward, I'm not bold

I want to be in the apocalypse

I want mountains made of bones

The bones of people who seek their wealth

I want the light of an angler fish

I want the love of hate

So why am I here?

Why am I this?

Why are my obsessive thoughts such an inescapable abyss?

I don't hope for a world that's better than this

I don't even know what that world would look like

The powers that be of this society they say I'm not normal, a rarity

It depends on how you define normality

I'm literally wasting my opportunities

I'm in love with death, I'm in love with retribution

And more than that, I'm in love with revolution

I'm in love with the idea that those of us who are poor

Will rise up and set their abusers aflame

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If you like this piece check out my Mastodon my account is [email protected] and I post about human rights, social justice, and the environment.131Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWyJTw8Fv7n

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