*ok, this is just another poem that I decided to add, instead of making ANOTHER story topic. Hope it's good!*

Weak

I know I am weak

too much like an old antique

falling apart and rusting

Crying and never trusting

And that is why a run away

to a place where i can go and play

i play with knives that others fear

because of this i'm no longer queer

beyond these bloodied walls of hell

I yearn for the hole that in I once fell

Lead me to a place with creatures that respect

And those who don't are sure to be wrecked

Wrecked by me and my growing rage

Once in my head they are stuck in a cage

I'll come after those who hate me with pride

To make sure my life is no longer untied

All that I needed was some time to mourn

Who knew my mind had to become so worn

I know I am weak

And that my life is so bleak

But in Wonderland I am great

I will not suffer my ominous fate