make room for mistakes, make room for your mortality, clear your grave of stones and sit down comfortably
would you love me for who i am? would you cast me a heretic when i read my scripture? would you look at me like mandela was looked at? would you call me names and equate me to a rat? would you hate my faith just because i'm different? i see you standing there saying my lack of education is due to insolence, but you don't know that when i went to school they made fun of me, my religion, my skin and the way i spoke. when i wore stars and stripes they felt more like scars and hives.
oh what deathly delights i wallow in, would you like to wallow with me? or take words on the chin like i've done for eternity? kill yourself inwardly and love yourself outwardly? screaming at windows painted with blood drowning in self doubt that comes on like a flood and i'm mired in hateful mud. save me! wrest me from the river of death, wrest me from this earth.
oh what barbed words i spew, would you like to read them? is this the extent of hate running through the ink in my pen? or is it glory and gore that mix together and explode in the lion's den? i'm standing and crafting these words in the last hours of life that rise from me in waves because i'm dying so slowly that i see myths float past me. am i mortal?
oh what small meanings i give out? would you like to know how i felt when my father passed? have you felt a volcano and a tsunami inside you? that was the day Hades decided that my fingers were instruments of his power and my heart was his cannon. tartarus revolved around me in a miasma of pain and i looked at the world with pure disdain that was unfettered.
Oh muses! do you wish to help me out of my misery? there's no need because of a serene truth.
I AM A MORTAL.
