Fuck Your Wickedness, Moral and Religious Arrogance

We are afraid of being in constant fear

that tightening of the tummy

The brace

The weight of the other shoe drop.

We are exhausted of catching the wind

that skewered race at onset

The chase

A handful of hot nothingness

We are dizzy from running circles

that distortion of nowhere-ness

The fall

The journey with no destination

We are in pain at the thoughts of an end

that gives no say on our interment

The erasure

The violence of our queerness…..

We will rise from the grave roving

to torment your remaining days

The haunt

Eroding your wicked sanctimonious souls