We Always Kill the Ones We Hate Because We Love Each Other

Hold me at gunpoint
So everyone can point at me
You look so precious
Defective as it might seem
I gave you reason
You turned it into a machine
Count the scapegoat 
With the black sheep while you dream--

Someday, I thought I could be beautiful
Alone in a house of broken mirrors
You turn and question my absence
Though it was you who fed my fear

Hold you closer
The tendrils tear inside of you
You look so distant
I never asked just what you do
To deserve a reason
Whenever you can't benefit from doubt
If you clutch your bible harder
You'll never pull the splinters out

Someday, I thought I could be beautiful
But the creases are so hard to count
You turn and question 
So the answers are never found

I was so empty
Till you filled me with your hollowness
You stare so deeply
But into what is anyone's guess
I let them witness
Their lamb and martyr's reason
For feeding them poison
As long as they seemed pleased

Tell me something beautiful
And maybe I can believe
In something much more vivid
Than you let me see
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace