derekpoetrydump | (no subject)

lit.[erature]

they evince concern that your pain is being prostituted against your will;
what they mean is they're bored
and they'd rather not see you profit
from their boredom.

oh, i've seen it happen before, this cycle of emotional nudity, reflection, and prudishness;
your whoredom of scars turns bitter
they pay you to hate them wittily
until you're chewed up.

until you're twisted into a barbed-wire braid of rage unable to speak except say
how much you dislike them;
your life defined again by the same voices
and of course they've moved on
and your hate is like everyone else's.

the secret is that your pain and my pain and all the little people's pain, it all smells the same in the end;
and they're looking for the the ugly anger that reflects
a different guilt to the one we can show them
in our one-note honesty.

they want the big anger that lives inside the powerful, the monster that won't stay quiet, something they can fight;
something to feel bad about for real
all you've got is a napalmed village
all i've got is child abuse
that's just not enough, buddy.