I close my eyes and dream of a space,
To call my own, my own personal place,
I hear voices around me, so muffled and contrived,
Do they not see me standing here, Am I still alive?
The air that fills my lungs, isnt it in yours as well?
And before you knew Salvation didnt you taste of a charring hell?
Ready to point fingers, ready to lay blame,
Do you know how I got here, from whence I came?
When did you earn the right to stand in judgement of me?
Have you blown the breath of life into another entity?
I am not above you nor do I claim to be,
I will not hide below you for the sake of my sanity,
I will stand stubbornly rooted and look unflinchingly upon your face,
And when you are ashamed enough, kindly step out of my personal space.
Copyright © Sarah Ramharrack