Meeting New People"This is my daughter, Abygail." Mother says, like she's proud.Your son Gail."Such a beautiful young lady." the strange man replies.No. It's young man."Yes, she's a good kid."He's a good kid."You must be very pround of her."You must be proud of HIM. And no, she's not proud of me."Yes, she's the daughter I always wanted."Oh, I got it, so that's why you told me to kill myself."I'm sure you are; great dancer, singer, makeup artist, horse racer, it's amazing."Who's kid are you talking about?"Yes, she's talaneted."Are you two even talking about me?"Ms. Abygail, why are you being so shy?"Me? Shy? Nope."No, Sir. I am not shy. And I have not raced horse since I was eight, the only singing I do is in the car or in my room, i am not a makeup artist, and I am not a great dancer. I do not like lies. As well as please stop, very rudely, calling me a female. It is Mr. Gail to you. Thank you very much you, annoyi
Fake SmilesHe walks, smilingTrying his very bestTo keep that smileBut in the back of his mindHe thinksDo they not know their words hurt?Or do they think,That what they're saying will help?Do they not see,That they are distorying the little will I have left?He knows his own thoughts are killing himSlowly eating at him aliveAnd when he gets homeHe looks in the mirrorAnd sees that girlThat girl he hates so very muchTears slip down his cheeksWith a gun in his handCut on his wirstsA smile playing at his lipsWith last thoughtsStop acting like a bitchAnd pull the fucking trigger
GenderHe's lost He doesn't know where to turnShould he run into your open armsOr let you live in the peace of not knowingBut you are the only one with arms wide openAnd he can't do this aloneNot anymoreIt's just to much for his shoulders to hold on his ownAnd when he's force to remember those hateful words"You are a girl! Act like it!"But it's so hard for him to do"Why do you dress all pretty and wear makeup if you're a guy, huh?"He know's it makes his mom and dad happy"Stop trying to be something your not."Yet they tell him to be a girlBut the thing is...The one with open arms... Should be the only one pushing me away....
SparkOne little sparkAnd it all goes down in flamesSmothered in the smoke and ashesLeaving you dark and grimYou can try to put it outTry to calm it downBut how do you smother a flame,Burining of pure rage inside you?