Punching walls has never been my thing
Because I know what type of pain it\'ll bring
I\'m not against violence
But it is against me
Against my entire being
I know how fucking insane
I have to be to believe that
Somewhere out there is a person
Just for me and that when I feel
No, when I know I\'ve finally found her
She\'s ripped away like Velcro
Maybe I should have stuck with laces
But Velcro is harder to replace,
Maybe at a different time,
I could stand tall and hold her hand
And say hey I\'m gay, so I don’t care
What you say about me or about her
And I could come out again today but when I did
For the first time it was like
Talking to a brick wall
But two brick walls that I look like
2 bricks walls that raised me
Not very well,
But yeah they were here
And I should be grateful to have them
And maybe in some alternate universe I am
Maybe in some other place, they are better people
Maybe in that other universe, I am better
Because of them
But in this one they hunt and haunt me
Like monsters
They stalk me, mentally and emotionally execute me
Until I come back to pick up my pieces and do it all again
and I wonder if I was raised by brick walls;
if these 2 brick walls gave me life,
can I ever be anything other than a brick wall
can I be made of straw or sticks
easily crashing down but not easily drowned
not so heavy, so much lighter than bricks
instead of an anchor can I ever float and be at ease?
The problem with coming out is,
it opens up doors and asks questions
you never knew existed.