Part 1
I ask then, with little blood left in these veins, âwhat is your definition of support?â You vampire; biting sharp teeth at my beliefs with condescending questions, like you would feed on a preyâs neck in the different body of a more suited species for your persona.
Be more specific. That day you wrote that letter implying acceptance and understanding left my easily-impressionable mind guiltily wondering at the possibilities that now laid before me: dreams to be achieved.
Hold up, Sustain, Nourish, Nurture: all synonyms of the word you feed my fragile mind, yet none of them relate to the definition you have so clearly agreed upon for the word.
Back, Strengthen, Advocate, Protect: You can take your pick, but still none of these were born second cousin to the definition of the word you have shaken my wildest dreams with.
Oppress, Encumber, Overwhelm, Persecute: Form a closer family circle, with a father and brotherâs to the definition of this word you have crafted, through years of irrational thought and a bitter past, swept under a rug kept on the front porch close to the front door of his tyrant mind.
I am not the son you hoped to live the bits of your life you failed to experience in a quickly fading youth, but I was the first born, and therefore first impression, and as well know the first impression is your last.
You cry inside for an alternative past, hardly smiling: living in a world of what could have been. In your eyes, I am supposed to be what should have been, but lost your track long ago, losing myself in a field of thickets and thorns. I walk amongst dreams that are tattered and torn.


Part 2
They acted as if last night never happened. The bread and circus of my people, however, had been compromised. Sleep was never entertained, and my mind was always hungry. The restlessness now took residency in my eyes.
They had reason to fear me, but it was kept quiet: I was kept quiet. I walked with an army I had recruited over many hours of sleepless nights, weapons consisting of an always-growing knowledge, that had been developed in the time I would lay awake: insomnia.
The minutes felt like hours, and I would take full advantage of the time, creating an empire of ways to bring the tyrants to the ground. My day would come. My army would become triumphant, and the lasting impression would sting in the back of their minds for an eternity.
But still the Tyrant mocks, âSelf-centered Bullshit!â I laugh: laugh at the phrase itself, at you, at the hopelessness of the situation. I stand one man beneath the shadow of your empire, infinite in its power. Hopeless like shrapnel prays for mercy after casualties to the angel children of a tyrant god, like angel children pray for mercy to their tyrant god of a father: they are helpless, as I am helpless.
Defeat! Happiness lies in the heart, and mine is no longer there, consumed by my plagiarism of your life and wishes crafted into my own. My soul has been sold for the affection and approval of your eyes, but who can love a soulless monster? My starving mind feeds on the light-meal ideas that are not my own, leaving me burdened with this emaciated mind.
Defeat was here with another gray morning. Glass shards followed my inner-children out of now empty window frames they exited their lives through, plummeting through the night onto black asphalt that gave no regard for their pasts or dreams. The rest of them simply overdosed or hung themselves from sulking willow trees, a relieving view to the burdened souls of the trapped.

Part 3
Later that night I hear your restless groans in the uncomfortable battlefield of the night, and feel my sympathy threatened by your vulnerability, and soon in the morning, Their worried faces kissed my sympathy with ideas of remorse and forgiveness.
I was sorry I had attacked them: They couldn't know. They had no way of knowing. Tears: Tears of remorse, Tears of weakness, Tears, for I had fallen victim to my own sympathetic tendencies:
My voice stuttering, I pleaded apologies to each of them. Although to say hysterical was an understatement would be an understatement, the apologies were undoubtedly sincere.
The monster was taking over, consuming me one bit at a time. I had never asked for this. Looking up to the older brother of this monster for a whisper of mercy: that whisper of affection I knelt shamefully praying for in sin: for to live in my condition, was to live in sin.

Part 4
It stood above me, always looking down. It cast a shadow, unmatched by any tower: an empire: standing gloriously glistening in the sun, its people were happy people. It kept them entertained and well fed, so long as they did not question things.
I questioned things. Why did it give them food and shelter, but not moral support? Did it not want them to grow strong? Was it afraid of what would happen if the people started acting in their best interests and achieved their dreams? They operated on false desires that it had snuck into their clingy minds over the years!
They wanted so badly to be liked; that they would bend to its will, no matter what direction it would bend in.
Complete control belonged to the empire. At least, thatâs what the empire believed. Despite what the empire thought, the world would continue to work with out any regard to its interests. The world had no care for something so small, such as this empire. In an infinite and abundant universe, this empire meant nothing: Your empire I have feared means nothing.

Part 5
Pity entered my once soulless body with every breath, sucking the life of the leaves, turning the green leaves black and my black soul green giving it the chance to sprout new emotion: to feel again. It was pain, but it was feeling. It hurt to look in those weak, old eyes. Wrinkles beneath them, I attributed written lines of your life stories that filled me with shame for being so quick to thrust my anger upon you.
Apologies would be sent in your way, but never directly: I am much too weak and cowardly for that.
Apologies for the queerness, Apologies for the misbehavior, Apologies for the slacking grades, A young boy dreaming of becoming a renegade
Apologies for harshness, Apologies for the unfair trials, Apologies for the attacks, There is a piece of justice I seem to lack
Apologies for the weeps, Apologies for the cries, Apologies for the tears, I have always forfeited to my fears
Apologies for playing music, Apologies for writing, Apologies for thinking deeply, I will never sleep peacefully

Apologies.