Take those glasses off my face then wipe the dust of their surface with the tip of your shirtsleeves…
dig your nails onto their corners and show me the spider web you just removed.
Lift those glasses towards the sun and look through them because maybe then you’ll see the world as I see it,
but no.
put those glasses back on my face and stare into my eyes with so much eagerness for my gratitude then make sure that I see the disappointment in yours for not thanking you enough for doing the math to all my equations and solving all my problems and actually saving my life by…
wiping the dust of my glasses.
Please, do take a deeper look into my eyes…
now…
Judge me.
Judge me, for I heard the eyes were the gates to the soul,
Judge me then cover your nose for my soul smells of rotten food and dusty cloth.
tell me.. can you wipe that clean with your shirtsleeves?
Judge me…
Cause maybe then that’s the only thing we can do,
Diagnose me with a disease that I cannot spell and tell me I have not much time to live,
Not because it’s true but because it’s what you wish..
Cover your nose and mouth with filters and now look back again into my eyes and…
Judge me…
Look at all of the hypocrisy graffiti’d on the ruins of my mind and tell me again..
where do vandals reside in hell?
Remind me of my room’s number and,
hand me the keys…
Call me a hypocritical infidel.
Laugh at my attempts of wiping the dust of the picture of god I long ago put above my bed because..
you know the god you believe in would only rain me with fiery stones,
Wait, don’t leave yet!
There’s a whole lot of judging to do.
You have not judged me enough, so…
cover your ears as the walls around you shake with the beats of music that repeats itself onto my mind and..
Wait, don’t leave yet!
There’s a whole lot of judging to do.
You have not judged me enough, so…
cover your ears as the walls around you shake with the beats of music that repeats itself onto my mind and..
make sure that I see an expression of disgust drawn on your face of what I listen to...
Slowly make space between your fingers and let the lyrics slip into your ears and…
Judge me…
Do tell me that I’m outdated.
Tell me that my tracks are too loud, and too old, and too cacophonic.
Laugh at the lyrics for the words are combined in ways that make no sense.
Laugh harder at the next track then ask me about the reason why do I listen to music in languages I do not speak,
Please, wipe the dust of those instrumental vibrations and put them back again.
Can I see the lyrics clearly now?
Can I understand them? Ask me in sarcasm.
Judge me,
form a telepathic connection between my brain and yours then choke on your own laughter,
Point a finger at my feelings of not belonging and displacement.
Stare at my hand-made solitude and shake your head in disapproval,
tell me that I’m begging for attention.
Look at the two angels on my shoulders and listen to their gossip about my sins.
Ask them for the notes they behold,
Fetch a pen and a paper and calculate,
write down every detail.
Count my sins and categorize them into times I did not have enough faith in god
and times I disobeyed my parents,
Times I did not love my country enough,
Times I did not go by morals,
Times I hurt myself,
Times I hurt other selves,
Times I lied when I didn’t have to,
And times I told the truth when a lie would’ve saved you,
Shake your head into hurricanes of disapproval..
Can you erase my records with the tip of your shirtsleeve?
Judge me,
Get out of my head
and look at my body,
Look at the sandwich between my hands and stare at my stomach,
remind me, please, of what I see every time I look at the mirror,
remind me of what I remember every time a person runs by my side,
remind me of the lump in my throat that I force keeping in by only pushing it down by swallowing every bite of food I eat without chewing,
Open your mouth and let the words escape,
Remind me, because as a teenager, I was never reminded enough.
Tell me that I’m fat.
Tell me that I’ll die before I’m forty,
That I’ll widow my wife and orphan my baby children.
Tell me that I’ll only make hell a lot more hotter for the fat in my body would melt down and boil and raise the temperature around,
Tell me that my hell colleagues would only hate me more because I’m taking more space than what you decided I should.
And, dear, because you’re such a caring, loving, person, who does not state out problems without solutions…
Please do save me and tell me to watch what I eat
Slowly make space between your fingers and let the lyrics slip into your ears and…
Judge me…
Do tell me that I’m outdated.
Tell me that my tracks are too loud, and too old, and too cacophonic.
Laugh at the lyrics for the words are combined in ways that make no sense.
Laugh harder at the next track then ask me about the reason why do I listen to music in languages I do not speak,
Please, wipe the dust of those instrumental vibrations and put them back again.
Can I see the lyrics clearly now?
Can I understand them? Ask me in sarcasm.
Judge me,
form a telepathic connection between my brain and yours then choke on your own laughter,
Point a finger at my feelings of not belonging and displacement.
Stare at my hand-made solitude and shake your head in disapproval,
tell me that I’m begging for attention.
Look at the two angels on my shoulders and listen to their gossip about my sins.
Ask them for the notes they behold,
Fetch a pen and a paper and calculate,
write down every detail.
Count my sins and categorize them into times I did not have enough faith in god
and times I disobeyed my parents,
Times I did not love my country enough,
Times I did not go by morals,
Times I hurt myself,
Times I hurt other selves,
Times I lied when I didn’t have to,
And times I told the truth when a lie would’ve saved you,
Shake your head into hurricanes of disapproval..
Can you erase my records with the tip of your shirtsleeve?
Judge me,
Get out of my head
and look at my body,
Look at the sandwich between my hands and stare at my stomach,
remind me, please, of what I see every time I look at the mirror,
remind me of what I remember every time a person runs by my side,
remind me of the lump in my throat that I force keeping in by only pushing it down by swallowing every bite of food I eat without chewing,
Open your mouth and let the words escape,
Remind me, because as a teenager, I was never reminded enough.
Tell me that I’m fat.
Tell me that I’ll die before I’m forty,
That I’ll widow my wife and orphan my baby children.
Tell me that I’ll only make hell a lot more hotter for the fat in my body would melt down and boil and raise the temperature around,
Tell me that my hell colleagues would only hate me more because I’m taking more space than what you decided I should.
And, dear, because you’re such a caring, loving, person, who does not state out problems without solutions…
Please do save me and tell me to watch what I eat
and remind me to work out.”
Because, of course, nobody ever told me before.
Judge me for my acts and potential,
Judge my nightly thoughts and daydreams,
Judge me, pitiful victim, and almighty prosecutor.
Judge me, your grace, for you’re the head of this court,
For your testimony is valid while mine is shredded into lies,
Hammer down on my shoulders and tell me to keep order,
Judge me, please, for I am a child in need of your guidance,
Judge me, because everyone else does, but no one else does it right.
Judge me, for I am a suspect, Judge me, for I break the law,
put me in custody,
Try to wipe off my fingerprints of the car wheel that I drunk-drove all the way down here.
Judge me for I’m a pollution,
a potential revolution.
Plead me guilty.
Throw me behind the bars cause your shirtsleeves cannot wipe dust of places I stood on,
lock me up for eternity,
Set a press conference and announce that you won,
And that I’m finally righteous.
But don’t tell them that detail,
Do not tell them that you’ll have to burn down the cell in which you kept me inside.
when..
eternity is...
over.
Judge me for my acts and potential,
Judge my nightly thoughts and daydreams,
Judge me, pitiful victim, and almighty prosecutor.
Judge me, your grace, for you’re the head of this court,
For your testimony is valid while mine is shredded into lies,
Hammer down on my shoulders and tell me to keep order,
Judge me, please, for I am a child in need of your guidance,
Judge me, because everyone else does, but no one else does it right.
Judge me, for I am a suspect, Judge me, for I break the law,
put me in custody,
Try to wipe off my fingerprints of the car wheel that I drunk-drove all the way down here.
Judge me for I’m a pollution,
a potential revolution.
Plead me guilty.
Throw me behind the bars cause your shirtsleeves cannot wipe dust of places I stood on,
lock me up for eternity,
Set a press conference and announce that you won,
And that I’m finally righteous.
But don’t tell them that detail,
Do not tell them that you’ll have to burn down the cell in which you kept me inside.
when..
eternity is...
over.
