Intent is,
Not so far from,
Reality sometimes
But mostly just,
A glimmer,
A glint,
On a horizon,
Hopelessly far from,
Home.

Broken promises,
Shouting in corridors,
A mess of jumbled noise,
And disappointment,

Deep jealousy,
And anger.
Clenched fists;
Nails screaming in my palms.
Digging through,

Breaking skin,
And releasing the sweet,
Simmering copper-tinged taste,
Of pain.

Falling flat, straying so far from
Simple, sharper ways.
Still stumbling over broken,
Breaking, brighter days.

Crushing! Curling through me,
Thorns pierce my pining heart!
Blood! Rushing, rising!
Mercy mourns,
While this weathered wretch falls apart.

And yet!
Slowly, softly, though lacking form,
Some sweet sound sleeps despite the storm,
And falls unconscious across my ears,
With whispers, grants golden song of tears,
And leads me into lying, letting,
My senses go.

"Bring me the head of a live unicorn!"
He demanded of me,
He wanted to use a laryngoscope,
To examine its insides,
As he spoke he peeled a potato,
And requested the deciding vote,
Upholding democracy,
Or the Mafia of the commons.

Tension as we,
As puppets,
Let them fight,
Over our strings,
Snapping two,
Stretching twelve,
Almost to breaking point.

But then,
The strongest,
Took control,
Back from him,
And let us slowly,
Relax.

On a broken leather sofa
By the wall of a music hall
Trying not to be recognised
But failing.

On a dusty old sofa
Relaxed at a friend's gig
Given up on staying secret
Because I was failing.

On a simple brown sofa
Holding hands at a three band show
Her touch comforts, I want to say
But I keep failing.

On a tired too-low sofa
Too-loud music vibrates the floor
My head on her shoulder, wishing to tell her
But failing.

On an unfamiliar sofa
Feeling at home as music blares
Unashamed to be myself with her
Not failing
For once
I am not afraid
With her.

Stop trying,
You don't need to,
I already ******* hate myself,
I already scowl at the mirror,
I already feel sick when I speak,
You don't need to,
Bury me in ****,
When I've already dug my own grave,
And laid in it.

I'm slipping away,
Beyond sleep,
Past slumber,
Further,
To reach,
Her voice,
Which gleams,
Like golden thread.

I long for invisibility.
For no-one to notice,
or look twice.

But also for the truth
of visibility.

To allow me to shine,
honestly transparent,
and let me be seen without fear.

To be subtly
but clearly
different
from anyone else.

Her eyes are still,
Amidst the chaos,
Of swirling, cycling, screaming gales,
Ripping dying leaves from,
Breaking boughs,
Till they tumble,
As they always would have,
But before their time.

I knew before,
I tried,
I'd hurt before,
I smiled.

I knew before,
I ran,
I'd hate the way,
I cry.

I knew before,
I fell,
I was losing,
My mind.

But I knew after,
All that,
I'd be grateful that,
I did.

Those red petals,
Floating from balconies,
Like the leaves in autumn,
Or blossoms of spring,
Dyed in deep crimson,
Blood.

Each worth thousands,
Of lives,
Lost over hundreds,
Of years,
To the hands of,
War.

I am lucky,
I am,
Though I don't always believe it,
To live where I live,
With the friends that I have.

The law of this land,
Is comparatively fair,
They won't stop me being me,
Or from growing my hair.

I am lucky.
In fact,
That I may gain support,
And that any surgery I need,
Will be completely free.

In this country,
In general,
Attitudes are better,
Than almost anywhere else,
And I'm mostly protected.

I won't be arrested,
Or tortured,
Or whipped, or hung,
For wearing what I want,
Or being with a girl.

I won't be kicked out,
Of my home by my parents,
For though they may not understand,
Or agree,
They're accepting

I won't be silenced,
Or censored,
Hateful comments are rare,
And my words can make a difference,
Without risk.

I was lucky,
I was,
To be born where I am,
Though it's not quite perfect,
I am free enough.