cold

 
there is something surreal about your anger
I can reach out and touch it
disturbing the crimson surface
it spits in my face
rage so real I can feel it calculating
just how to end it
 
insidious need to be understood in blood
hurt so deep inside it's an infection
a reflection of systematic rejection
by the so called normal society
I step back and realize for the most part they're just actors
no one fits within the torture
 
purging you of your most intimate feelings
stripping your rights until rage surfaces
telling you don't do this and that
then featuring the onslaught of destruction on the news feed
another died alone today for your viewing pleasure
carnivorous glee the gawkers hungry for the show
 
it's so cold out there
I'll stay inside today and pretend  
the beauty of the world is for us equally