Satirical sadness
said the face of the clown,
Under the big top
tears upside down

Twenty five years
of life on the road,
No smiles, no more
has taken its toll

The laughter is gone
and so its said
The show is but over,
So put it to rest

Sitting alone,
in front of the glass,
his reflection is broken
dropping down fast

Make-up streams down
his circus drawn face,
Sitting with no one
in his own solemn place

Dropping his pills,
with a liter of gin
fading so fast
and losing his grin

The big top has fallen,
the circus left town
Nobody cares
the sad clown is down.

I tend to get stares... Looks... The occasional "are you gay?" With a quizzical look of disgust.
Well, to answer your question, no, I am not gay.
In a society built around judgment and stilted above common sense,
Being gay would mean that I'd have to find women utterly disgusting, flick my wrists, speak with funny and awkward inflections, right?
Do you think I speak with funny and awkward inflections?
Good! Because I'm so not gay.
Being gay would mean that I love to shop, well I hate it!
My fashion sense does not exceed that of a box of colorful crayola crayons melting away in the blistering Las Vegas sun because you see, I don't live in San Francisco, or New York,
or anywhere "gay" people live.
I am not gay.
Being gay would mean that I am immoral but I can assure you, moralistically speaking, that morals are what keep me routinely from listening to Lady Gaga, who I've heard, despite her catholic upbringing, is a devout devil worshiper and I sure as hell don't worship Satan!
Oh no, I am not gay.
My father once told me, in his manliest tone that if I ever became sweet
or my tank profusely filled with sugar
that he'd disown me and rid me of his home.
However last time I checked,
I don't have a tank
and one lick of my tanned brown skin would reveal that I am in fact quite salty!
Salty, as defined by Urban Dictionary, means to be ******.
Bitter. Angry.
Well father, there aint nothing sweet about my wrath.
I'm infuriated.
I'm angry not because I'm not able to fulfill the holistic criterion society has built in order to be gay,
No, I am more upset that there is actually a set of rules dictating whether or not someone is gay.
Now listen to me when I tell you,
I am not gay
I am not gay because I have yet to inject myself of substances with an unsterile needle for all purposes of getting high.
No, I have yet to discover my last ****** partner was diagnosed with *** and that I may very well have the virus.
No, I have yet to interiorly decorate my bedroom with the warm crimson fluid that is my blood because some punk at school thought it was cute to label me a queer.
I have yet to be gay because being gay in today's society means I am reckless. I am promiscuous. I am a *******.
Well, guess what society,
I am not gay.
I am, in fact, a man, who is not your personal show dog for your fashion approval that you can tote around in some cute Gucci bag.
I am a man, who can still appreciate the beautiful magnificence that is a curve when he sees one no matter the person's gender.
I am a man who, despite what you may be expecting,
is a man who, no matter how hard you try to box me in a confined image,
is a man who, will fight to freely be in love with who he wants to be in love with,
who is a man who is not gay
but a man who loves men.
I am not gay.
..

Coloring pages full of sadness,
Darkened circles with crazy madness.

With crayons in hand, I started to paint,
Reds and blacks, I was feeling blank.

No one to see my beautiful muse,
No one to look at, I was confused.

I needed direction, when I was a child,
Home all alone, loose but not wild

I talked to my friend,
the one you can't see,
you said I was crazy,
he made me believe.

We played many games
and talked many hours,
you went back to the closet,
I was in sorrows

Have I made you up?
My closest friend.
This family is gone,
I need you again.

Come back my companion,
I need you so.
Come out of my closet,
I will hold you close.

Beautiful teenager
so smart and clean
Honor Roll, Glee Club
Homecoming Queen

The dance, the party,
enjoying the night.
Evil seeps in,
destroyed her pride

A cancerous pill
sinks down below.
Taking the sip,
Wouldn't you know?

Glazed stare, from her eyes,
not knowing the known.
Steps in the abyss,
blackness be ******.

Minutes to hours,
hours to days,
This homecoming queen
has lost her ways.

Three days have passed,
naked, afraid.
Miles from home,
Memories are fade.

The devil creeped in,
destroyed her soul.
SLIT HER WRIST
SHE'S FINALLY HOME!!

Doom train hurtling along
Through the fog in my mind
Towing freight, rectangular and oblong
Dim headlights, you're travelling blind

Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose
Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel
Undetermined path, rails will choose
Chugging along on dirt covered wheels

In the cabin, I see the light
Emanating from your furnace
Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite
Tongues of flames licking the surface

Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke
Almost unseen, against the dark of night
A long plumy arm as if extending to choke
And plug the remaining sources of light

Meandering precariously on tracks that weave
Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain
Your store, so reliably you heave
Worming your way through my brain

What's in that cargo of yours?
What lies within those boxcars?
What drives you to diligently run your course?
What fuels you to travel near and far?

Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach
Snaking your way to an unknown destination
Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach
Herald the train of dubious intentions

Light is upon you, dark will dissipate
Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack
The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate
To see another charging towards you on this very same track...