True Monument - Merchandise

I gave up looking for easy answers

Contemplating words that left such scars

Composed with the cruelty of kindness

Her arms outstretched with lips ajar

I’d have her arrested

But she has no hands and I can’t trust my Western eyes

At night she wanders about the jail cell

Her refusal’s all too much to bear

The brilliance and light are left intangible

Language is lost now I just stare and stare and stare and stare

She’s someone that can’t be colored

With paint nor privilege nor another’s blood

By way of protest and backwards passion

I sought to grab and then hold on

To what I thought was truth in the frigid grip of vanity

Where has it gone?

Where has it gone?

Where has it gone?

Now reckless flames

Engulf the frame of the one true monument