Day: Aug 6, 2020

And I look at my layered cotton candy sky every evening

Blaming my father for distorted love that keeps bleeding.

I’m doing alright, more than I was promised where I grew up

In the town where no one’s allowed to stand up

For themselves or for anything somewhat decent…

I can’t shake the spite because it feels so recent,

Because their cotton candy sky’s inherited and not really earned.

Where I come from, each cry for love remains spurned.

The hate is a currency there – but so is the hidden insecurities.

Dirty beings blowing mud on the clouds, judging all purities.

And I look at my pink sky because I clawed my way up here,

Away… but the town behind refuses to fade out and disappear.

I know that my head on a stick will not suffice their hunger.

Wish I had known when I was still hopeful, when I was younger.