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