The blood had stained the bricks and now the strain was on. With weak muscles and weary eyes I lifted a broken and shattered body from the dirt; my own. Tears had stained my face and I was no longer falling for the rockiest bottom had met my flesh and I was now trying to get back up. Weights falling down upon me with every second. My knees started to buckle as another liquid from my eyes slipped and a whisper emitted from my lips, “No. Please.”
As the rocks fell upon my skin and bruised my already black muscles I screamed out in agony. This hell had been my home for so long and I longed for it to change to something bearable and still I was stuck here. Without life, without hope, and without love. My heart; shattered, frozen, and now, gone. I let the rocks crash upon my skin and slipped once more to the ground; words of discrimination slipping in my ears and swishing upon my memories.
“Fag.”, “Gay.”, “Queer.”, “Freak.”. They all slammed into my mind over and over again. My jaw was cracked to the side and I tried to tighten my muscles to no avail. More liquids, so warm and gentle, slipping down mud covered cheeks. Lines of exhaust weakened my expression from a deep anger to a soft melancholy. Letting elbows crack and knees buckle my body crashes once more to the red dirt and black mud.
I cannot move as my lids slip and shut me out into an unforgiving blackness. A blackness so deep I could not remember a thing. It all just fainted away from the depths of my mind. A soft poem may be the only thing in there that recites:
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