wait for the cuckoo bird
when the time comes
but the springs can be broken

he puts the color in my iris,
the bounce in my step,
the tea in my thermos,
the music in my head

he puts the stars in the sky-
sun in the day and moon in the night

he puts joy in my heart-
when times are tough or times are right

I work alone.
And when the words are finished
and the ink is dry
I put them in a bottle
and throw them out to sea.

I wonder
what possible things
will cross your mind
if you hear my name from someone you don't know.

happy birthday to the boy that broke my heart

for all of my life,
i've been told that i would be going to hell,
that i'm destroying god's creation,
that god hates me.

the same god that is supposed to be all-loving.

then you have the audacity to ask,
'why aren't you a christian?'

it's not that i hate religion,
i just can't support one that has dehumanized queer people
for hundreds of years.

you were my forbidden fruit
and though i knew you were a sin
i just couldn't resist you
and if heaven never lets me in
i'll be okay knowing i had you