I don't know if my mom loves me anymore
She says that I am changing, I am not what she bargained for
I set fire to abusers like a war, I am a terror
But I don't know what it is I fight for
I cure the pores of my skin I leave no room for anything
I survive because I have died
Just to keep my head afloat and my body unprovoked
I set up walls but make sure to include windows
And I cure the pores of my skin I leave no room for anything
I survive because I have died
And maybe in a year, I will learn to love the fear
And maybe in a year, I will not feel like a bad queer