*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
