In the dream of ourselves the waves mourn
Crashing against our self-loathing
And our mouths that create verbal porn
For we hate ourselves more than
The rain hates a storm.
In the dying tears the waves breathe,
As we ourselves know there is so much beauty in a storm
Though we slander and heave
Words of hatred and spit on those who’ve done nothing to us
We still know our self-loathing is insecurity, us to grieve.