Fingerprints
This story has come from my own experiences I am borrowing a CSI character (you choose who) and I promise to put them back. I have seen some the following signs and statements in several different areas. Don't sue it may not be yours and me all I own is crappy bike and a car loan
You touch the album again knowing it will bring you pain. Why do you keep these clippings and photos. You must be twisted to hurt yourself with so many memories.
Newspaper clippings and photographs.
"Bush Likes Marriage Protection Week"
Photographs of you seen through a camera lens:
In seventh grade a kid wore a t-shirt to school that said God would kill all the Lesbians and Gays.
You never forgot it, sitting only two seats away and just beginning to understand. Unfortunately so were other people. There he is 12 years old and an All-American Boy
"AIDS Kills Fags Dead!"
All through high school, might as well have been a punching bag down in the gym. You were beaten. Your eyes and ears left with permanent damage. Scars that will never fade all over your body. You learned early on to float away in your mind, struggling only made it worse and tears weren't an option. Now you're never really here. When things get hard to float away to a grey world without pain. Here's one of you 15 years old, broken arm and face that looks like its been hit by a truck. There are no feelings in your eyes.
"You don't matter. You are expendable! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
No one protected you. Your parents and your school blamed you. If only you weren't so different. You deserved it really. It was all your fault. The church preached against you. You never had a safe place, so you spent most of your time out of it. Just floating away. Here's one of you by your church, age 7.
"The Bible Tells Me So…"
You never thought much about it. God hated you and everyone else did too. It was just how things go. Besides if you ever started thinking, you might have seen that there was something wrong. No kid can do that; if your world is so harsh and unloving you can still go on. Here's one of you laughing , age 14.
"God don't let them find out….please I need a friend…just for a while…."
By the time you were nine you had already started hurting yourself. By fourteen planning your suicide. Your emotions were dead. Even today you can't feel good. Something inside has been broken and can't be fixed. Here's one, age 9, scars from a knife all over your arms. Told your mom you "fell".
"…had an accident today…just wants attention….wastes my time"
You came out to your parents hoping they'd support you. That was stupid. They practically ripped you a new asshole. You went on, somehow survived. Went to college. Don't know how cause God knows you didn't care. Graduated, got a job, pay your taxes on time. Here's you drunk at 21.
"It's only sex don't expect love…You don't deserve any"
But you can't let go of all of that. All the self-help books say you should be over it all by now. You've had the individual therapy, been on medications to stop the suicidal tendencies, even done the group therapy thing. But you still can't sleep for the nightmares and trust isn't even an option. You're just dead inside, a corpse that moves. Here's a group photography with the rest of the CSI team. At work you smile and act okay. Your life is like everyone else's or so they believe. It's all lie but you're good at lying and they wouldn't want to know the truth really. People only ask how you are out of politeness…they don't really mean it. You look at the others, knowing they would hate you too.
"…gay….no way…should fire that freak…on meds too, probably psycho!"
One of these day you could get killed. Hell, its happened before. You have a will to just spread the ashes over the desert at night. Give everything you have away. Then let them all forget; maybe this world will finally let you go to place without pain. But maybe this scrapbook will remain.
"No Fags in Heaven"
This story has come from my own experiences I am borrowing a CSI character (you choose who) and I promise to put them back. I have seen some the following signs and statements in several different areas. Don't sue it may not be yours and me all I own is crappy bike and a car loan
You touch the album again knowing it will bring you pain. Why do you keep these clippings and photos. You must be twisted to hurt yourself with so many memories.
Newspaper clippings and photographs.
"Bush Likes Marriage Protection Week"
Photographs of you seen through a camera lens:
In seventh grade a kid wore a t-shirt to school that said God would kill all the Lesbians and Gays.
You never forgot it, sitting only two seats away and just beginning to understand. Unfortunately so were other people. There he is 12 years old and an All-American Boy
"AIDS Kills Fags Dead!"
All through high school, might as well have been a punching bag down in the gym. You were beaten. Your eyes and ears left with permanent damage. Scars that will never fade all over your body. You learned early on to float away in your mind, struggling only made it worse and tears weren't an option. Now you're never really here. When things get hard to float away to a grey world without pain. Here's one of you 15 years old, broken arm and face that looks like its been hit by a truck. There are no feelings in your eyes.
"You don't matter. You are expendable! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
No one protected you. Your parents and your school blamed you. If only you weren't so different. You deserved it really. It was all your fault. The church preached against you. You never had a safe place, so you spent most of your time out of it. Just floating away. Here's one of you by your church, age 7.
"The Bible Tells Me So…"
You never thought much about it. God hated you and everyone else did too. It was just how things go. Besides if you ever started thinking, you might have seen that there was something wrong. No kid can do that; if your world is so harsh and unloving you can still go on. Here's one of you laughing , age 14.
"God don't let them find out….please I need a friend…just for a while…."
By the time you were nine you had already started hurting yourself. By fourteen planning your suicide. Your emotions were dead. Even today you can't feel good. Something inside has been broken and can't be fixed. Here's one, age 9, scars from a knife all over your arms. Told your mom you "fell".
"…had an accident today…just wants attention….wastes my time"
You came out to your parents hoping they'd support you. That was stupid. They practically ripped you a new asshole. You went on, somehow survived. Went to college. Don't know how cause God knows you didn't care. Graduated, got a job, pay your taxes on time. Here's you drunk at 21.
"It's only sex don't expect love…You don't deserve any"
But you can't let go of all of that. All the self-help books say you should be over it all by now. You've had the individual therapy, been on medications to stop the suicidal tendencies, even done the group therapy thing. But you still can't sleep for the nightmares and trust isn't even an option. You're just dead inside, a corpse that moves. Here's a group photography with the rest of the CSI team. At work you smile and act okay. Your life is like everyone else's or so they believe. It's all lie but you're good at lying and they wouldn't want to know the truth really. People only ask how you are out of politeness…they don't really mean it. You look at the others, knowing they would hate you too.
"…gay….no way…should fire that freak…on meds too, probably psycho!"
One of these day you could get killed. Hell, its happened before. You have a will to just spread the ashes over the desert at night. Give everything you have away. Then let them all forget; maybe this world will finally let you go to place without pain. But maybe this scrapbook will remain.
"No Fags in Heaven"