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.