For Donna and For Scott

to speak the unspeakable
to bear witness for the dead

If I kill myself am I a murderer?
Is it as bad as killing another?
What of interrupted ones who never were?
I have lost a half-sister and half-brother
She to suicide and he to criminal neglect
Is it any wonder then that I do not respect
The father we three share?

I am the last and least

In the belly of the beast
There I have spent my life where
Although unbearable
However terrible it is for me
For Donna and for Scott
It is no more for they are not
To be for them was not to be

I honor you my siblings though unknown
The last and least and lost is left alone

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMV

Every word is true and there is much, much more.

I struggle to bear the unbearable each day.

I am used to being misunderstood and rejected, to being told my meter is off, that my lines are choppy; few understand I write because I must, whether I can or may or not: this is my life. If my lines are choppy, my life is choppy too.

I accept that I have never been accepted, but I must write what I must write because I must.

to speak the unspeakable
to bear witness for the dead

There is more to tell, and I will tell it; I will tell it all.

It is too late for Donna, it is too late for Scott; it is not too late for me, the last and least.

I will tell and I will show: I will tell and show you all.

Thank you with all my heart to those very, very few of you who care enough to even try to understand the riddle which I am.

I have not made myself this way
This is the hand I have been dealt
And so I play

Love,

+Stevie