If truth is relative..

You came way, way too close,

Your interpretations..
I'm feeling the urge to oppose,

From being a pseudo friend,
you turned into a foe,

Who for my taste,
seems way way to bold

You left me sitting here,
trying to control

The feelings of vengeance that
are creeping up my toes

In front of you one day,
I'm afraid I might implode

My little guardians,
are trying to throw stones

While you sit patiently,
on your funny safety throne

Repeating the words that,
keep haunting me on my way home 

and create a rage that,
is as sharp as a sword

Cutting me each and every time,
I end up alone

But in your theories,
I no longer want to roam

I want to find out,
myself where I belong,

Even though to you I know,

this is just another show,
that I am putting off,
to try my best to ignore,
The fact that you planted seeds,

where I thought no grasses grow,
But if truth is relative,
then our theories are also..

Faggot

Make use of the word again

it served you so well,

when you threw it 'round my neck

and if I attempt to yell,
just say it again,

after all we could never be friends

and throw it around my nose

isn't it sick,
that I demand them to know

what gender I like to blow-

and how I repulse,
everything,
that has been offered by the lord

I'm at the lowest, as you can see

quite literally,

I'm one with the grass and the bugs

and the blood I left tonight,

on the balcony

You're fast, your strong,
a real hunk,

I love to watch your fists,
when they jump,

upon my body, upon my spine,

assuring me,
that I'm ingrained in your mind

To have the right to own a word,

would mean the world to me,

cause then I finally,
could get a rank,

in this hypocritical hierarchy

But in reality I stay above you,

I know you inside out,

know all the pressures that you once encountered,

know what this rage is all about

And all I'm asking,

is for you to turn around

and have a look at me,

understand that what we both have been longing for,

is the ultimate masculinity