Who are we?

I often find solace,
Peace,
In my sacred place.

Secret,
Yet in the eyes of the
Judgemental Public.

Who are you to judge me?
My fair skin, my radiant, purple hair.

Who are you to judge me?
Because I'm thin,
And appear to not care.

Who are you to judge me,
For being in love,
For loving life,
For loving the universe?

Who are you to judge me?

I write, and I read,
That's how I define myself.
Words, sung or bleeding on blank pages.


Who are you to judge me for
My words of truth?
My aching heart?
My caring soul?

Who are you to judge me for the faults
I've flaunted,
While so neatly sweeping them under a dusty old rug?

Who are you to judge me for the places I go?
The people I meet?
The things I see?

These are my eyes.
My soul.
My heart.

Who are you to judge me?

Who am I to judge you?
From a surface level?
From hear-say and from what I've seen
through my tainted eyes?
Who am I to judge you?
Your story?
Your lies?

Who are we to judge?
We should just love.
Let the universe subside.