People want you to be straight with them

Face to face - and plain with them 

They want you to be in line with them 


A straight line, that is.

None of that wavy shit. 

You better not have a single fucking dent,

because you know what that means...


You're broken. 


And so help me god, 

help me god,

they will try and fix you 


Because even if you have just one little bend, that's it. 

That's enough of an imperfection to signal 

you aren't with them. You aren't one of them. 


You are something else.


So you better not let them see you .

Just sit a little straighter, 

because if they see that bend in you... 


Oh god. You're screwed. 


See, because they won't always want to try and "fix" you. 

No sometimes they just want to kill you. 


49 dead 

Bang. Bang. Bang! Bang! BANG!

49 dead 

In the biggest mass shooting in Amerian history,

all because someone didn't like that they where a little.... bent 


Home of the free? Home of the brave? 

How about home of the broken, scared, and inslaved? 


Inslaved to a system that will brake you, because you are "broken"?


Maybe I am broken. Maybe I'm broken hearted. 


See they would kill me too.

If I stood by someone bent out of shape, and grabbed their wrist to say, 

"Hey, don't be afraid. Those scars on your wrist are okay". 


See those scares are like pinches.

The pinches you hope wake you up from a bad dream. 

Because how could this not be a dream? 

How could this not be a nightmare? 

How is this real? HOW IS THIS REAL? 


It can't be, see.

So they resort to piches and pills until they wake up...

Or they don't. 


And those that don't die? 

They don't show remorse. 

In fact, they congratulate the gun-man on his work. 


"Way to kill those fags!"

"All those lesbos, gays, and drags!"

"Thet deserve it!" 


You would assume that tragedy would unite us. 


But really tragedy just makes it painfully clear who's with you, 

or who is not 


Tragedy opens your eyes,

to see how many people have hate in their hearts. 

Who jusify an action, 

because of its end. 


Who cares that there was a mass murder? 

We got rid of a problem. 


You always hope that something good can come from tragedy. 

Sometimes social changes happens. 

Sometimes there IS justice. 


But this time, in Orlando, there is just a mass murder. 

A murder that lifts the curtain to reveal how much hate lies in America's heart.


Not to say there are no poeple who care. 

Many morn with Orlando. 


But this time, I'd like someoneto show me the justice. 

Where is the social change? 


Because all I see, are politicians using this murder as a martyr... 

Or not recognizing its exsistance, which is even more insulting. 


All of it scares me. 


The lack of recognition for those dead.

The lack of recogntion that this was an act hate. 

The lack of recogntion that the LGBTQ community was the target.


But most of all, it scares me how amny people hate those that are "broken". 


So god... Please god.

Don't let them see that I'm a little bent out of shape. 

Because one way or another...

They are going to kill me. 



This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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