raging thoughts pt. VI

Neat

i am not left-handed
i will never be
i refuse to fit your tight spectrum
of standards and ideals

i even space
by messing it up
i gather strength
by playing weak
i find stability
in constant metamorphosis

it’s something bigger than me
it’s an overflowing emulsion expanding
from the need to perform better

i can see it happening
i can see it burning, leaping so deep

but i’ll never lay myself asleep
no i’ll never let myself sleep
without getting on my knees
without dancing on wires
without cleaning the sheets
oh i’ll never let myself sleep
before i reap
before i reap all of your hatred
and broil it with all of the misconceived
perceptions about the identities i keep

i won’t submit to your sweet surrender
i won’t let myself down again
but i eventually am entitled to
because i’ve spent endless hours cleaning
the thick scum and mold you carried off of your feet
when you stepped onto their porch
so that you step onto mine, neat
as i step into my sleep, neat.

But I’ll never lay asleep. I’ll never lay neat. You’ve stained my sheets forever.

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