visions

the barrage

your barrage of hatred and words.
pouring from your mouth with the energy
of an automatic weapon which you
would have us all carry concealed.
they slam me in the chest, your torrential
bullets of words and push me into the wall.
they make me drive my nails into my palms.

for one thing, you insulted the fact that i
am a hippie. and that's just not cool.
because hippies are fucking classy
and awesome and volkswagon kombis are
the absolute meaning of life and you
have no right to judge me for the fact that
my soul was at woodstock.

and then you insulted that i'm an
anarchist, saying that anarchy is disorder
and that we do need government to keep
us in a structure. i drew the anarchy symbol
on the board and thought to myself,
maybe government is good. but if
government is you, then it sure isn't good.

then came the attack on gay people. you don't
know i'm bisexual, and i sure am never going to
tell you now that i know what you feel. you would
visibly object if you saw two men kiss in public,
you'd throw a fucking fit and scream and blame
obama just as you already do at my in the classroom.
i nearly blew fire and torched your balls that day,
i was mad enough to kill you.

the last gunfire, and the strongest, was the attack on
suicide. you of all people have no right to
make fun of me for the fact that i try to kill myself every
week or so. you have no right! none! you don't even know
how many of my cuts your remarks are responsible for
and fuck you for that. you can't make jokes about
a girl who's suicidal, and you cannot insult her,
if you even expect her to live another day.

thus i leave you to go to hell.
i'll be sitting here watching you yell.