The Law of My Pain

Your suffering is my responsibility to bear,

your tears beg for a soul purely untouched by the ugliness of spite and hatred,

and my failure to deliver inspires your abandonment.

 

I've been granted an allowance of five tears,

any more than that paints the glisten in my eyes with treachery,

forgive me for not remembering my place.

How could I forget that my worth depends on your ignorance of my pain?

 

What is the difference between living, breathing, and dying?

Can I say I've ever lived when the human experience is withheld from me by law?

You are only human when you ask to be heard,

and this is an understanding you are entitled to from me.

For me to request a moment of peace is to call for the end of a decade long war,

the soldiers demand that I move along before I grow infatuated with their guns.

 

Your misery fills me with a suicidal envy.

If only I could also be met with the warm embrace you expect of me,

when safety becomes a stranger I can't recall ever having known.

 

Drowning in a sea of my own blood,

I am relieved of the hell I've lived on earth,

and maybe the God above us will be the first to let me cry.