my septum ring
is the most consistently
crooked thing in my life

We are your neighbors, we are your friends.
We hide in the cracks in your hetero-normative society.
We do not need your representation,
we do not crave your voice.
Thank you, we have our own.

Ours is a voice you simply won't listen to,
but we can fight our own battles.
We live in the underground subculture you pushed us into,
and now we're ready to resurface.

We're coming up fast and we're coming up strong,
and no, we won't be quiet about it.
We won't conform to fit into the hetero-normative
graves you've already dug for us.

Don't ask who the "man" is in the relationship.
We're complex and complicated, and no, we won't give that up
just so you can have a "gay best friend."

Your stereotypes can't hurt us anymore.
At the end of our "limp wrists" are clenched fists,
and baby, we're aiming to make your nose bleed.

Don't try to stand for us, stand with us.
Raise your voices with ours, do not
rise above us to save us.

We don't need your salvation and
we don't need your approval.
If you're trying to speak for us,
you can keep your "same love" to yourself.

You can call us the new wave beat generation,
due to the fact that we're sick of being beaten down by your *******.
We'll beat the institutionalized hatred you've been beating us with.

Warning: you may experience some slight discomfort.
After a while, they tell you that it's expected.
At least, that's what they tell us.

They tell us that it's easier to hide who you are and
who you love than to express that love.
And when we do express that love
they tell us we should've just kept
it in the closet where it came from.

Either that or we're supposed to allow you to
make our love so small that it could fit in your palm of your hand.
Go on, say, "*** a gay couple, they're like, SOOO cute!" We dare you.

We've got Kerouac on the backs of our hands
and generations of pain building from the backs of our hearts.
Don't push us to the back of your mind,
because we'll build until you burst.

Just like we're bursting with rage;
an age old pain caused by your ignorance.
But we're ready to end it, end the violence we inflict on ourselves
because our sexuality makes you uncomfortable.

And we can't have that, now can we.
You? Uncomfortable?
Please, allow us to sacrifice our human dignity,
so you don't have to be uncomfortable.
Because, let us tell you, it is so comfortable to not have equal opportunities as you!

Yes, we still love you.
We are your friends, we are your neighbors.
We still call our mothers to complain about our jobs.
But this **** has got to stop.

And now we leave the choice to you:
either help us or get the hell out of our way,
because we're burning this system to the ground,
whether you like it or not.

i took the metal out of my face
but i couldnt carve the art out of my skin

i took the words and swallowed them
but i couldnt stop the thoughts from
strengthening

i lit a cigarette
but never smoked it
you said
you can take the
tobacco out of your
hands but not
the tar from your lungs

i looked in the mirror
so filled with regret
i felt it spilling out
of my pores
pulled the covers
over my face for days
woke up
and was the same

welllll,
nothing good ever
stays
but
i have a headache
that won't *******
go away

I thought I could see.
that I was aware      
but not really.

I thought it was real
that I could grasp it
but not really.

It was just the smudginess, the
glossy illusion    

And worst of all
in those sweet seconds
I thought I was whole                
but not really.

i dont have any passion left
it's all just an ache in my head

this is a series of brief letters to the pieces of my body

dear body,
we don't always work together very well,
but i swear i am trying.

dear hands,
the callouses and crescent moons in your palms
will not be for nothing.

dear knuckles,
aren't you tired of painting yourselves black & blue
every time words fall short of the fire burning behind my sternum?

dear feet,
you know better than to follow roads that lead to dead ends.
there are better places for us to go.

dear eyes,
you have sunken so far into my skull
it shocks me you see anything at all anymore.
you're fixated on shades of gray
but i promise the world will regain its color soon.

dear knees,
stop crawling.
this broken glass is from his bottles.
get up. no more blood.

dear shoulders,
it was never your burden to carry. let it fall,
and try your hardest not to feel guilty.

dear neck,
his hands will never make a home here,
and you are worth more than one night of empty bruises.

dear spine,
stop waiting to be warmed by fingers
that would reach for another body if they could.

dear tears,
do not waste yourselves.

dear ears,
you have been filled with ghost songs for too long.
stop listening for things no one is saying -
it will make life much simpler.

dear mouth,
i know these secrets have been threatening to break my teeth
but please do not open your gates. i am not ready.

dear skin,
we have never been close friends.
i am sorry for the scars.
i am trying to learn how to be comfortable in you.

dear mind,
if i could wish you into an etch-a-sketch
and shake you clean of these bad memories i would.

dear heart,
i hope you can forgive me for being so careless.
i feel how tired you are. rest is on its way.  

dear body,
you will one day see a grave,
but it must not be by your own hands.

- m.f.

Another minute
Hour
Day
Week
Month
Year
A­nother
Struggle
Frustration
Sacrifice
Hurt.
Another
Impossible problem
Impossible emotion
Impossible thought.
Another night.
To stay awake
To think the time away
To look in the mirror
And think..
About life, love, loss.
About, yourself and what you hate.
The way you walk
Your size
Your lack of talent
Your intelligence
Your instability
Your dependence
Your marks
Your personality
Your experiences
Your eyes
Your hair
Your nose, ears, neck, face
Your body.
Another night to think of your failures
Math, you hate math
Parents, you’ve failed them, and they don’t even know
Your friends for things you don’t tell
Your self, for not caring
Choices, that should have never been made.
Your teachers for not doing your best
Or your best not being good enough
The one you love, for ******* up
Another night to feel numb
From feeling
Love
Happy
Free
Kind
Satisfied, with yourself and life
Because of
Sadness
Depression
Anxiety
­ Expired addictions, you'd hate to get rid of
Self medication.
Another night to stop and think
About how you’ve ****** up
And how no one has seemed to notice.

About how you have fallen down,
Been ripped apart,
Ripped open and left to bleed,

And no ones has seemed to notice.

it's the way you call me
darling
and the way you kiss my lips;
your head resting on my shoulder,
the gentle swaying of your hips.
it's the days you text
"good morning";
it's the way you drink your tea,
it is in your awful driving
and the way you smile at me.
it's the way you make me laugh
and the birthday card you sent,
how your perfume always lingers,
how you softly touch my hand.
it is that you burn your fishsticks,
that you curse the rain outside,
it is that you named your cactus
and the way you say "good night".
it is in the little moments,
in those little things you do;
and I know, without a doubt,
that I can't stop
loving
you.

CAN YOU HEAR IT?
YOUR HEAD HITTING THE CAR DOOR?
I'm out and have only sixteen
you're not real
cut me open
no I've changed my mind
but you haven't changed
IS IT WRONG OF ME TO ASSUME YOUR IN LOVE WITH TREASON?
because you're painting a very clear picture
and a picture is worth a thousand words
but you only smell of burnt paint now
your frame will be snapped apart and opened up
torn apart
I'm nothing close to an artist
but this is my masterpiece