Rainbows are bleeding
as my people are threatened
by death, and lost love

I wish I could be like
the cool kids.
Sitting in a car
watching the night go by
iPhones blowing up with
snapchats,
facebook messages,
likes,
texts,
random flirts from people.
Getting into places
normal people don't.
Skinny
getting things I want.

I wish I could be
one of the cool kids.
Sitting on the beach
smoking a joint
around a plume of smoking
and fire.
Wasting our lives
peaking in highschool.
I wish I could be
cool.

I wish I could be
one of the cool kids.
***
Drugs
Money
Friends
Lives dwindling
memories
fond
loving life.
Dying fast.

I want to be
cool

To lose something loved
Teaches one how much it's loved.
Why must that be so?

Why is it that
people have to be better
for a thing between
their ears
their legs, or
on their chest?
Pink for one, but
Blue for the other.

Why does Blue have to be
stone cold
harsh like broken concrete
tall
broad
strong
smart
apathetic
manly
headstrong
t­hink between their legs
and not their ears
no make up
hate fashion
sporty
not thin
not fat?

But Pink has to be
emotional
soft like silk
shorter
petite
weak
stupid
can cry
girly
thoughtful
think between your ears
don't go near between your legs
lots of make up but look like none is on
all about fashion
hate sports
not muscular
not fat.

Why can't there be a purple?
A middle ground of color.
Where everyone can be
who they want
and not care.

I don't like it
not because I haven't
"had a good time yet"
or
"I am confused"

I'm gay.
I don't like it,
*** is so
awkward
different
crazy
boring
all over
exasperating
weird.

I just don't see why people like it.
Am I weird?

I'm missing winter
just so I get a reason
just to be closer

Without
I am just here.
Somewhere between living and
death.
Sitting next to
is all I need
to feel that
coursing crimson in me
the ballooning of my lungs
body heat.
The thought
of gone.
Makes the crimson gets iced
the balloons deflate.
All I see is
a funeral.
Holding hands
soar throat
wet
cold
scared.
Everything escapes.

Suddenly

the ballooning is back
crimson coursing
tears rushing
body heat on my hand.
Words "I'll never leave"
come in my head.

"That isn't true"
Someday
the're will be
emptiness
and a coffin.