stained
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I am not a virgin, but I am still pure.
I am not a warrior, still, I'm fighting a war.
Ink against white paper, stained and beautiful.
I am an outsider but my heart is still full.
You always linger
After you leave,
Like coffee stains on paper
It's only heart that stands
so still
But hands and voice still waiver.
I'm fine until I see
You there
Then breath becomes a labor
Echo, you privilege soul
Stand by as I pillage your home
Watch as they rave your condemnation
We have yet to live.
We won the battle.
We fought the fight.
We rode in saddles
Til' the end of the night.
The blood was spilled.
Boys became men.
Innocent tears filled.
Their dads, they wouldn't see again.
A Sharpie hanging in the air
Taunting me from your fingertips
Just the knowledge that it’s there
Is enough to put me on edge
You laugh as I slip it from your hand
Knowing I just let you lure me in
