Pistol In My Sanctuary
Pistol In My Sanctuary
But that is what you claim, right?
That proclamation has slipped your tongue over and over, I have become repelled by such nonsense,
angered at the words that have proven one big lie that I want no part of,
But I have turned to the reflection of myself, double checking I cannot be viewed the same,
I will not adopt what is not my truth.
Silly me, sending a welcome card while the earth quaked under our feet over and over.
Once upon a time, even with the buildings crumbling to dust, I would run to you,
It was my nature time and time again, but I started to see you would not do the same for me.
You never did.
I had to set my sights on you myself. I had to know after all those years: who are you now?
You are not peace.
Peace is not clutching me by the back of my neck, demanding a kiss I have no will to give,
Peace is not forcing my body on top of yours, using your power to restrain me as I protest those God-awful words "You are hurting me,"
Peace is not slamming my back against the wall, squeezing my wrists and threatening my life at a silly comment pertaining to my own paths,
Peace is not shutting my voice down because I have said something you do not like,
It is always with the "Shut up."
I swear, if I hear it one more time, from anyone, I will scream,
Peace is not dishing threats to another, drowning any voice out that is not your own.
I have tried to see the good.
I have tried to offer peace, continuously risking my own comfort,
And you do it without remorse,
Cold metal in my safe place and under my seat, Telling me "You know I don't listen."
I hear "Fuck your respect. Fuck your boundaries. I am the motherfucking man and I do whatever the fuck I want.
Fuck you."
I will not allow myself to say it back.
I cannot bear your chaos, your madness that you dwell in, spreading to ones you "love the most"
but charming strangers to get exactly what you want,
Those levels.
I will never judge by curly locks, golden skin and downtown walks.
Forget all of that.
Forget everything that makes you say you love me.
Not love,
never.
I guess I am the nutcase myself for trying, believing you have changed,
No, you are worse.
I want nothing more to do with you,
and you,
No longer have nothing to prove to me.
By Shaire Blythe
Friday, August 26, 2016
Being Muslim does not make you peaceful, just like me believing in God does not make me abstinent.
Being Muslim does not make you peaceful, just like me believing in God does not make me abstinent.
But that is what you claim, right?
That proclamation has slipped your tongue over and over, I have become repelled by such nonsense,
angered at the words that have proven one big lie that I want no part of,
But I have turned to the reflection of myself, double checking I cannot be viewed the same,
I will not adopt what is not my truth.
Silly me, sending a welcome card while the earth quaked under our feet over and over.
Once upon a time, even with the buildings crumbling to dust, I would run to you,
It was my nature time and time again, but I started to see you would not do the same for me.
You never did.
I had to set my sights on you myself. I had to know after all those years: who are you now?
You are not peace.
Peace is not clutching me by the back of my neck, demanding a kiss I have no will to give,
Peace is not forcing my body on top of yours, using your power to restrain me as I protest those God-awful words "You are hurting me,"
Peace is not slamming my back against the wall, squeezing my wrists and threatening my life at a silly comment pertaining to my own paths,
Peace is not shutting my voice down because I have said something you do not like,
It is always with the "Shut up."
I swear, if I hear it one more time, from anyone, I will scream,
Peace is not dishing threats to another, drowning any voice out that is not your own.
I have tried to see the good.
I have tried to offer peace, continuously risking my own comfort,
And you do it without remorse,
Cold metal in my safe place and under my seat, Telling me "You know I don't listen."
I hear "Fuck your respect. Fuck your boundaries. I am the motherfucking man and I do whatever the fuck I want.
Fuck you."
I will not allow myself to say it back.
I cannot bear your chaos, your madness that you dwell in, spreading to ones you "love the most"
but charming strangers to get exactly what you want,
Those levels.
I will never judge by curly locks, golden skin and downtown walks.
Forget all of that.
Forget everything that makes you say you love me.
Not love,
never.
I guess I am the nutcase myself for trying, believing you have changed,
No, you are worse.
I want nothing more to do with you,
and you,
No longer have nothing to prove to me.
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