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what does it mean?
To the one who would have been my lover
If I would have loved.
To the one who would have runaway
If I had chased away, and not down.
To the casualties who would have been victims,
If they were 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
That they are 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
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?
