I’m aware that my gentleness upsets you.
Does it make you laugh when I give warmth from the tongue you use to spit venom with?
I’ve been told my rawness stimulates your own demons to take advantage.
My demons dance on vulnerable tables in bars. Everyone can see.
It’s my strength that’s ignites your blandness for all to see.
I’m sorry that my growth from ember to flame challenges your lesser self worth.
My sex and acceptance of skin on skin shines a light on your constraint, your sexual cage.
Does it hurt to see me enjoy a boy with no darkness?
My knowing ease for what you fight so degradingly for undermines you.
Does it hurt to see what I was birthed in to this world with with such ease?
You fight me for the true love I have from others.
Is it hard to not have truth from another, is that why you hide?
Climbing high with no wire burns you.
It must be concealing to see it being built without stepping on others. Whilst I still proceed with ease.
What are fools gold mountains like to scale?
I sing as people walk by.
Is it not a melody of truth you’d prefer?
Does my crotches attraction pull the curtains back on the limpness of your own?
My path being an obvious map to my truth does not swim nor lower itself to even float in your stagnant watery path. Are your rivers so desperate for true current? Mine flow like rapids.
The gentleness I show impedes your thoughts for you believe it not to be bulging with strength. How foolish you are to think a true fire is not warm.