xXx-Blood-Orchid-xXx

It’s between a cramped closet and a meat grinder. I'm still right here. You say you understand, and I don’t doubt that, really. But have we switched shoes? Is it possible for you to see out of my eyes and to feel the anxiety boiling in my chest? Some words are just words, and others are daggers. “That’s how the world is.” I get that. But it doesn’t mean I have to be complacent with oppression within an oppressed group. When did life get so ridiculous? There’s already a hoard willing to tear all of us down, has the disease infected us too? There’s no way for me to give my eyes to you, o