153 from Transitional Forms by 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖕𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖍

They call me reckless
But then they call on me to speak.
Ask why I’m breathless
While their hands are choking me.

Rip me apart, my dear
For daring to express;
I’ve seen good women immolate for less.

We are the warriors
And honesty’s the crown to which we’re sworn.
Call me your enemy,
Impale myself upon a loving sword.
I speak my truth
And that’s the only thing I need.
Kiss me goodbye, I’ll die for my beliefs.

Make me a martyr, baby,
Burn me from my feet.
Already felt that fire
From when they had branded me.

No one was saved
And I won’t make it home alive.
Us bitches, yeah, we all get crucified.

We are the warriors
And honesty’s the crown to which we’re sworn.
Call me your enemy,
Impale myself upon a loving sword.
I live my truth
And that’s the only thing I need.
Kiss me goodbye, I’ll die for my beliefs

Make me a martyr,
Burn me alive.
Make me a martyr,
Still I’ll be crucified.

• Hardcore
• Metal
• Metalcore
• femme
• melodic hardcore
• queer
• Baltimore