I feel exposed,
A bear without its coat,
I feel vulnerable,
A cactus without its spikes,
I feel scared,
A mouse running from the cat.
How much more of my life will be stolen?
How much more do they need to know?

My lover has the hand of an artist,
The heart of a poet,
The brain of a genius,
And the ear of a musician,
The most rare mix of beauty and tragedy.

I force myself under the water,
Feeling the cold invade my mind,
My skin tightening against the attack,
Shuddering,
But yet,
When I come out the other side,
I feel the hot sun on my skin,
Making all that cold suddenly feel worth it.

The taste of your lips lingers,
Mixing with the liquor,
Misguided decisions,
Hidden moments,
Hang in the air between us,
I lie down next to you,
Wanting to kiss you,
But finding myself too scared to make another move.

I etch my sorrows in broken bottles,
Remembering the name of every glass,
So that when I return here,
I know which one will get me drunkest fast.

With drops of liquor left of my tongue,
I realise how stupid I’ve become.

If queer was a joke,
You’d be the first to laugh,
If queer was a guide,
You’d be the first one to be lead,
If queer was a song,
You’d be the first one to sing,
But when queer means queer,
You can’t accept it.