Impasse

I chew through my nails, I can't think of help.
My dreams try to lie, they tell me that everything is alright.
I am crawling in my skin again, so I cut my way in.
Fighting myself to live, but pieces of me die in the end.
I am strong having lived through what I have, but I am weak for choosing the things that hurt me further in the end.
I am at an impasse, with no way forward and no way back.

I AM

I am a God of the poor,
of things you can not be sure.
I am the place in between,
Of man and woman, and place and thing.
I am the stone you wanted,
the answer to pain.
You can either cause me to suffer,
or side with my efforts to end these things.

Things that oppresse us,
Set us down, as if we are less, less then the ground.
What will you grow to be?
Something stronger, or sick and weak?
Take your stand unafraid then, or you can live your days in a cage.
I won't be what they tell me, I will stand on my own two legs.
I won't be their ideas of comfort or grace,
nor I be of acceptable things.

Real forgiveness comes from sacrifice.
Real love from a willingness to die for it.
Real family from an understanding of differences.
Real friendship from a willingness to accept it.