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so someone asked if you’re okay?

you give an honest answer in the name of finally receiving mercy

instead they weaponize sadness

and use it against you, to torment you, to abuse you

in ways you couldn’t imagine, not even on your most delirium ridden days

if you give people those bullets

that ammo

they will not hesitate to empty a chamber on you

hitting and pinching all the nerves that assure a spasm

aching and slow

but you don’t get the release of death

they’d never give you that

so you answer

you have been incredibly sad

because you thought this confession would release something profound

your exit wounds are open sores now

you thought, oh i’ve gone through life silently enough, if they ask me to make a sound… why not make a sound?

but being honest, even in the right context, doesn’t lessen the blow of being told

you’re not allowed to be sad anymore

or this is what happens

because that is the name of the game

they twist you into something you’re not

they morph you into something they can use to further the agenda of taking lives silently and leaving you there in the corner to fucking rot

mercilessly

making you a number

making you robotic, desensitized, devoid of feeling ever again-

walking around in a skin suit on your own tax paying dollar

killing your talent

killing your rage

killing you and giving you a number in place of your name

taking your clothes

taking your pride

taking your smiles

taking your eyes

making you see

wash you of everything you were until you are squeaky clean,

completely empty

do not ever fucking tell them

you are “sad”

do not even utter the words “sometimes i swear i could go mad”

they will kill you if given that chance.

-g.m.t.