Trash

If you are a unicorn,

I am a narwhal

swimming in a sea of new blood.

To be horned means to be radiant.

We both are radiant,

but you can’t see.

You just have pictures in your mind.

Just so you know,

you held my hand too tight

and let go

and left me outside the gates.

You didn’t mean to hurt me.

Nobody ever does.

It is beyond words,

the way you see all these things that I’ve done.

I have thrown my pearls before the swine,

and they all turned to devour me.

They break through walls and call me trash.

"Trash."

"Trash."

"Trash."

You are a unicorn.

And I am a narwhal washed in the red ocean.

And I hear your silent words

“Adulteress.”

“Temptress.”

And you think you have done nothing wrong –

But you haven’t even stepped in my ocean.

If I am outside the gates

They are the gates of the wrong city.

I have a gigantic soul.

I am art.

Apart from you I am not condemned.

I do not want to cry.

And I remember that even trash has infinite value.