A sliver and a half.

This may be a world that I have no business being in, 

but I suppose that in anyone that says that the statement would hold true. 

There is no difference betwixt the eye that flashes a flirtatious wink 

to the other that serves as a drawbridge adjacent to the nearby river behind.

Though I refuse to look into either, 

I harbor strong hope that the joy mitigates the appearance of the other. 

This is the life that they told me of not too long ago. 

Where the light twinge of discomfort grows as you work to compartmentalize it. 

But to do this takes a village that you do not have the privelage of being supported by.

The domineering facade that will not stop the faded scars from floating of the sea of skin, 

and has the audacity to smile and say that it understands them.

This is a place that idolizes the Pretenders and damns the silent but honest, 

because you simply cannot be both. 

This mental asylum that beings fight to belong to, was somehow created by us. 

The restraining walls that, inscribed upon them

are the rules that list what is wrong and slightly less so. 

Man garoted himself by his own cookie cutter 

to the point that the sliver that is missed will simply burn into oblivion.

Human Dignity + Compassion= Peace.