No more tears.
No more wasted breath or fears.
Calm and anguish are one.
All is silent, like it's always been,
Despite my screams for help.
My words are meaningless to you,
So you choose not to hear them.
My identity is my own,
Not your empty fabrication,
So you choose not to see it.
No longer can I be your son,
Yet I cannot be your daughter,
So why should I continue trying to be either?
Two bright lights in the middle of the road
Bearing down with a dull drone.
Crushing my body and releasing my soul.
A physical manifestation of the internal wounds
Inflicted by your doubt and denial.
It is final.