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if they weren't nigger
To the one who would have been my lover,
If I would have loved,
To the one who would have run away,
If I had chased away, and not down,
To the casualties who would have been victims
If they had been worth remembering,
And the nigger-sayers who would have been racist,
If they weren’t nigger.
To the sacrifice
Remembered more as an enemy,
The atheist
Who runs from the demons of God still.
The decadents who dispel the words of the bible
But continue the myths,
And the tolerant people
Who embrace stereotypes.
They think we are scared to be ourselves,
But we are just repulsed,
By they themselves.
Clingy people talking about attachment,
As they are falling apart.
Brothers who are mothers,
In the sense that mothers aren’t mothers;
In the sense that death
Is just saying goodbye to birth,
In the sense that orgasm
Is acknowledging our own concessions
Because who would have chosen this?
And the chosen,
They are too picky for us,
It isn’t about rejection,
It’s about standards,
Standards aren’t about raising the bar,
They’re about making the mud bearable.
My lover,
What does it reveal,
That we don’t love?
