I love that I sit here in the rubble and ashes of my own stupid young mistakes
I hate the fact I had so little options.
I had no voice because with my queerness came punishment.
Punishment for not being able to lock it away any longer.
I thought straight people would never understand it but the two people that have stuck with me are both of the heterosexual variety.
They have been the most understanding, the most caring they have helped me clean up this mess of emotions and pain just from being there for me and showing me kindness.
Regardless if I was queer or not I was more intelligent and reasonable than most people my age and in the small stupid town I have all of the road memorized.
From one place to another it's still the exact same place I've ever known.
The same walls that have kept me captive in my own home twice now.
4 years difference, younger me could only vaguely dream of who I am now.
I guess I should give myself some credit for that I suppose.
April, May, June, July, August, September
used to haunt me with a passion for hell, for blood every last one of you worse than a Cane Corso, lusting for my blood.
But now it has faded, you have fallen.
You may still come for a fight but you will not win.
I am better than to fall for your trap door into a pit of sorrow and hate.
I will refuse to let you degrade the armor I have built around your foolishness.
You may have scraped the metal but you will not reach my skin.
Never yours, Angelo
