He tells me
suicide
isn't as negative as it sounds.
I tell him neither is rape.
I figure one of us has got to be right.
So we compare scars and sob stories in a bed of pure laughter
and as we lay below the gallows,
we tell each other how wonderful it feels to get attention for the wounds in our skin we've always thought were normal.
We wonder,
if no one ever told us these were ugly
would we hide them so often.
We don't know the answer to this question.
And after being so involved in these societies
of societal rebels,
were getting confused about which societies to rebel against.
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