You taught us to be just
But there is no justice.
You taught us to save people
But they are dying in the streets.
You taught us to love
But hatred runs deep in our blood.
You taught us to live
But I am dead.
I have oozed to the surface
And squeezed through the cracks of Hell.
I have slit mothers’ throats
Listening to the yells strangled from a child’s broken lips.
I have been the thing you have hunted
And I’ve enjoyed it so well.
But you cry for me.
How can you possibly comfort me?
My pain, the torment, the waking wonderings screaming
“Why am I living?!” throughout the night
Making sure I live sleepless,
And that nightmares chase me with unanswered questions?
You couldn’t understand.
Because only the dead know how to mourn.