It Gets Better

Cactus fists that seek out peach blossom cheeks,

Iron rods red hot that seek the quench of young blood.

Eyes once luminous now shielded from your staredown.

Grins mask your Hitler-esque passion for my pain.

I am here, in this moment, feeling, tasting, immersed

In your chasm of ego fueled ignorance.

I want you to know, that even with the barrel of your

Hate pistol pressed in my throat, I breathe thru my

Loved ones and I embrace the fact that…

It Gets Better.

One thought on “It Gets Better”

Again so true, from my own personal experience I can associate with every word.

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One thought on “It Gets Better”