American Monster Follow story

I am the epitome of what an American monster is. The eyes that perceive me; they seek pity, yet continue the suffrage on me; as every layer of America burns, blisters, burning; like acid in a barrel. Dark arms, light arms, brown arms, reach for me; only to misunderstand their very own body language. Their own doubt. I burn. I fail. I fall. Internal injury that can not be perceived. The fatal bleeding within me comes from the reaching hands themselves. For my pain burdens my dreams. Self healing process where the pain can leave my shell. For a moment. Suffering from every form of American aspect. Economical status has us in the same bracket as underground sex trafficers. Do you not see pain on the naive? Shame on you; naive is the one thatpercieves! As I stand alone in a melting pot of freedom; I feel lost. Freedom? I have been sentenced to the maximum penlity of a life sentence! My voice has been exploited and banished from my own freedom. Its in which the eyes that percieve me; never acknowledged for more than an aquaintence, as I share dinner tables and my very own bread; I am nothing more than a distant friend. I seek the American dream with bare glass filled feet; for if they never see the bottom,they will never know how much I bleed.