I am terribly sorry that I ran into you.   I can see that you are a bit puzzled because you think that you know me. Perhaps we have met a time or two or maybe every holiday last year, but I don’t blame you for forgetting. You see, I have changed…quite a bit and I can tell that you are very confused. It’s not the way you are looking at me or the way that I am looking at you, or the way that you are looking at me looking at you or the way that I am looking at you looking at me.  Wait, why are you looking at me? Oh yeah, you are probably wondering whether or not to ask me if I am that sweet little innocent queer barista at the nearby coffee shop down the street or the “****** up ****” that your daughter so disgustingly fell in love with during her crazy high school phase.  Yeah… that may or may not have been me. You know, you might want to tell your daughter to call me because she left some things at my house and I have been trying to get them back to her for years now.

Oh uh…Who am I you ask? It seems that you still aren’t following me. I mean my identity means nothing to you…or at least it shouldn’t, but I will try to enlighten in the best way that I can. You see, my identity has always been the person that you see before you. It’s just that for most of his life, he was trapped under the softly sweet smelling perfumes and make up that tortured him for a good solid 15 years.  His identity masked from everyone around him. The man you see before you is indeed the imaginary boyfriend that your daughter claimed to have all those years of middle school because she refused to bring him home for fear that her parents would call her a lesbian. He may or may not also be the “****” that you refused to acknowledge every night at dinner on every freaking holiday he was at your house every year during high school; Your daughter’s Lesbian friend that was conjoined to her hip 24/7. Little did you know, I was the boy she wanted to marry, the one and only person she ever felt loved her. He hid in plain sight for several years. Yet you never noticed. That is, until the night you caught us.

You see, I am not the Lesbian that converted your daughter. Or even the “****” that ruined her life. I am the boy who has always been by her side through everything. The man who promised to forever remain by her side, through whatever life tossed her way. I fell in love with her on the first day of 6th grade and I haven’t stopped loving her since. She will forever be the love of my life and….Wait why are you crying? I have some news that might cheer you up. You know that sweet boy that your daughter has been seeing, who she has refuses to bring to dinner? Yeah…you may or may not be looking at him. Let me introduce myself, I’m Aimes.

That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy.

I take a peek at you through my Wells goggles. I've had a sip too much of my grapefruit ***** and we are the only two people in the bar.

I'm light as a feather and with gin nipping at our noses, we let Jack Frost drive the car that night.

That's the thing though, sober or not it's all the same game. The wells is just gasoline to ignite our volatile roulette.

Drink number two still as pink but this time I'm ******* faster. I'm trying to imagine that the lime at the bottom taste like your lips and I am inching towards your soul.

That night you told me we were the same kind of crazy.

Chemical malfunctions in our past, led us to that moment. Infinite understanding of misunderstanding.

I'm light as a feather and I let you drive home, but I never asked if I could stay.

I cannot do simple math to save myself from blushing. As people start trickling in I count my breath and catch the eye of a familiar stranger.

He was wearing the most arousing scarf.

I wish that was your scarf.

With Jack Frost waiting in the car and grapefruit in my veins I count the steps synchronising the strides with my heartbeat.

**** it's cold. Please let me hold your hand.

Pack the bowl, pack the ****, pack the one-y

Isn't it funny that rhymes with honey.

Glossy eyes and records. Your White as fresh snow sheets.

I digress.

Why do you always make me leave?

I could just lie with you, I'd just like to listen to you.

We talk, but vaguely. I wish you'd open up to me.

I'm sorry.

Comfort keeps us swollen, but what we have is frail.

Maybe I don't love you, but I don't feel cold to you either.

Give me something to think about when you aren't around.

You're my friend.

Platonic, no depth, just silence.

My vocal absence attempts to create space for your stories.

What are you about? How did you get here? What happened to make you untrusting of my company?

These are these things you think I cannot see.

Somewhere in our cloud of smoke is the door to your heart.

I don't want it to be mine, I just want it to tell me stories.

I wish you could hear my heart thumping from the miles between us.

I wish that your finger tips could glide across every inch of my skin just as an ice skater skims the freshly smoothed canvas their feet call home.

You are my home.

I wish I was a snowflake in your hair, I would cling to each strand tightly and become one with every cell, creating a bond between us stronger than any atom.

Then maybe part of me would be stuck to you forever.

In the summer you’d have the memory of the sky I came from and the stars that created me.

The sky was clear the night I met you; each star twinkling with its own perception of fate.

I want to become cosmonaut, so I can visit each destiny. Maybe then, I could find the one that fits us best. The one that would have made you stay.

One night you told me how we should count them all. Tossing our thoughts in the sky recklessly, desperately trying to match the dim lights above in uncertainty.

The darkness consumed our thoughts, ******* them into a black hole that gave no promise for return. Those twinkling thoughts diminished, lost in the vastness of space, forgotten as they slipped away into the night.

The coldness of space is unforgiving and so is your love.

You branded your name on my heart, each letter making a permanent home in my flesh.

The scar of your love is something that my body will never part with, but I wasn’t good enough for you.

I could never take care of you the way I needed to.

The stakes were too high, the distance too vast. It was too good to be true, too bittersweet, and all the other sappy clichés in the book.

I trusted you, with my heart and though you broke it in two, I’d do it all again if I knew that you’d try.

If I knew that you believed that our love was stronger than the bigots around us, and that you believed that the love I gave was enough.

The thought of you resides in the back of my mind; occupying my subconscious like a living dream.

I can still hear your voice just as clear and crisp as it will ever be.

My body begs for you, but all I can feel is your ghost.

Your presence lingers in the air above my bed dancing about in the night masquerading as fireflies.

They used to be my nightlight. Now they fuel an insomnia that is colder than night itself.

Forgetting you is not just as simple as putting your picture away.

I might have to suffer from a concussion that will bless me with mind numbing amnesia just to forget the way you touched my soul.

Your love will forever be infused in my veins and whether or not it haunts me I’m sure it’s not something

I’d reluctantly get rid of, unless I had no other choice.

So I will continue to cherish those memories, no matter how painful. In hopes that someday you’ll come running back to me.

You are like toxin. Just the simplest thought of you can send my body into a figurative halt.

My heart stops.

The constant reminder of how volatile our union was stuck like gum to the fibers my brain.

My perpetual hate reminds how much I love still you. Yet I hate you.

I don’t know if it was your coy nature or the way that you made me feel like I mattered for once in my life.

But you will forever be engraved in my body; my organs will never part with the thought of your touch.
You are still the reason I cry at night and the reason I cannot love more than lust.

You destroyed me. Taking every fiber of my being and rewriting it to fit you and you only.

You don’t want me, yet no one else can have me. It’s like a curse that will never be lifted.

Whenever I looked at you I saw wedding bells and children and a house in the mountains with all the glorious passionate love that you promised me.

Now, I see how stupid I was. How completely crazy insane I must have been to believe that someone as cold as you could ever build something to last.

You flooded my chest with tea and washed out with coffee. Only to leave what had yet to be stained with a red blotch in the shape of your lips on the lining of my heart.

You make me sick. I am ill with the corrupted grunge stain that your love left behind.
I love you, but I ******* hate you. And I cannot even begin to think that I will ever be able to love again.

Your voice was soft and there was something about your disposition that could just lull me to sleep. It’s not because you were boring, hell I could listen to you for hours.

No, you were gentle with every word that you spoke almost as if you were tiptoeing around the harness in this world. You candy coated it for me, almost like you were protecting me from something.

I remember the night I met you, the second you gazed upon me with those pool-blue eyes, was the moment my heart started play a soft concerto of love.

It hasn’t stopped since. You were the muse to the melody of every step I took. And in the first month that

I knew you, I was born again.

I dragged my feet on the sidewalk every night I went to get a cup of coffee. Along the way I’d coach myself.

My insomniac ways needed to learn to take in the night air with each stride, allow my chest to beat with all that I feel.

Every day is a new day and so is the moon, and just maybe you could teach me how to fly because baby you make my heart sing.

For each night that dragged me out just so that my drooping eyes could find something sweeter to look at than the cold air above my bed.

Each and every night that I’d find you again in that that coffee shop window, my heart composed a new tune.

I swear by now, my body has created an infinite number of songs for you.

One night, I said that my love for you shined brighter than the solar system and spanned wider than the universe.

I guess my cliché cosmonaut tendencies rubbed off on you because you asked me if I ever wanted to travel to the moon. And I said that I’d only do it with you by my side.

That was the night that I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.

But bend and break comes hand in hand with eve and flow.

Bind my soul to everything I crave then toss me aside like I’m nothing.

There’s something about this silence. It sends chills through my entire body.

The fear of being alone strung through the back of my brain. Leaving my head caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, a warpath of emotions.

That’s what you did to me.

Leaving every fiber of my being screaming for help, red tunnel vision in sight. Screaming, but with no audible words.

You played with heartstrings, turning my vital organs in to sick love puppets.

The butterflies that rage in the pit of my stomach suffocating me as they crowd the back of my throat.

Our love was like a thunderstorm, two fronts clashing, composing a volatile connection that sent everyone running.

You knew the rain was coming and so did I. I was a fool to think that you would stay, but I was enchanted by your soul. Put under a spell by those swimming pool blue eyes.

I loved you, and in return you taught me the greatest lesson in life. Don’t love someone, it hurts too much.

The memory of you may fade someday, just as the scars on my body. Equally the pain you left behind may never be seen to the naked eye, but you don't need a microscope to decipher the origin of my torture.

The moment I decided to begin to forget you, my body began to fight back. Attempting a last ditch effort to stay committed to you. It continued to taunt me. Reminding me time and time again that resisting the urge to love you was an ugly futile effort that most likely acted as the key factor to my demise.

You are a part of me. No matter how much I fight it. You moulded me into something so vile and vindictive, yet so passionate and loving.

In breaking me, you taught me how to love. And what to avoid. And how to reject someone.

This is brainwash I'm spewing. I still believe that who you made me to be is actually someone I need to be. Consequently I'm lost whenever you are around because without you I cannot function.

My thoughts are tirades. My emotions are garbage. You might as well give me a name tag that says Oscar because day by simple little day I still wallow in the filth you created through the mind games and the mental torture.

You abused my gullible delicate soul. My fragile heart couldn't bare to watch me suffer so I broke off a part of it and left it behind as a parting gift. For you and only you.

How ****** up must I have been to deem you the only recipient of my good byes. I was only dishing out what you wanted hear... What you trained me to do.

I may have gotten rid of you, but what you left behind were the unbearable scars of your love.

I can't breath through the PTSD.
I can't breath through the foggy memory of your love.

I loved you, but you broke me.

Your love is a torture that I don't have the luxury of abandoning.

You bled me dry. Every fiber belongs to you.

To this day, I still strive to please you.

That is the sick truth of our love.

My insomniac ways beg me not to wake this early in the day, but the smell of coffee beans awaken my soul.

It’s been 5 days since I’ve seen the light and my cosmonaut tendencies have gotten the best of me.

Each night I take a trip to the moon and back, collecting some stars along the way.

My soul thrives on stardust and my heart pulses with the moon.

My spirit, a wolf in the dead of the night, lurks in the shadows; Reaching out to every inch of the universe.

Just searching for the peace and serenity that comes with being one with the universe.

My soul may be a thousand years old, but with each new day I am born again.

Maybe that’s why I am afraid of the light.

You left a coffee stain on my heart and though the strings couldn’t bare to part with any fiber of your love, my body resents you.

I broke. She broke me. I’m broken. Can’t you see that I’m broken?

She has hurt me in ways that you could never imagine, bound my heart to her soul in more ways than any one person could think possible.

She twisted my veins, intertwining them with her heart.

I wish she could see the way that I could.

Love is such a fragile thing, but when you use it and abuse it you learn more things than you would ever find in a text book.

Love, you tug at my heart strings. Took everything that I am and tossed it aside like one of your ****** up love poems.

Crumpled me up in the night then threw me away in that soiled trashcan in the corner of your room.

Let the lyrics of my love for you slip away in the night.

I hope every syllable leaves a shadow of my kiss on your lips, turning the sweet nectar of your raspberry lemonade chap stick to chilling memories of the ice in your soul.

My bones ache from your frigid love. Our partnership was always more than bad news.

Before you ripped my heart in two, you turned it into tissue paper.

It got thinner and thinner each time it broke, turning something so strong into something now so weak.

The storm of our love created a river that may not have ran smooth, but I loved her anyway.

You taught me to love each fragment of danger along the way; taught me to use each crack of thunder and each flash of light, to my advantage.

My love for her grew as deep of the depths of her heart until the day she set me free.

That must have been the night it flooded, wasn’t it?

Our love was like a reckless storm. Two fronts clashing, composing a volatile connection that sent everyone running, but you thrived in the chaos didn’t you sweet pea?

You always used to tell me that I was the lightning to your thunder, but every time I struck, I could feel you slipping away from me.

No amount of sorrow will ever erase the image of her from my mind, the taste of her in my mouth.

She was my favourite cup of coffee and my only sweet dreams.

Her shadow haunts me like a silent plague, keeping me awake in wee hours of the night.

Maybe I just need some tea to replace the bitter taste in my mouth, but until that day she will forever be the reason for my insomniac ways.

the most magical experience in life,
is being gifted
an unexpected epiphany.
epiphanies exist in many,
non-discriminatory
shapes an sizes.
and it just so happens that
this particular one
came to me in a time of
new awakening.
spring has sprung...
and so has my heart,
into your lap, that is.
just over a week ago,
I acquired a thick new layer of skin.
a soft, yet durable,
and pleasantly portable
safe space.
it has become my new happy place.
I now, cannot imagine
myself without
this undisclosed,
name-brand jacket.
and to me,
this is, a not-so peculiar notion.
because honestly
nothing has resonated with me more,
than this jacket of denim.
I feel like the blue guy
in that classic pop song
from the early 2000's.
my clothes are blue,
my hair is [cobalt] blue...
where is my **** corvette though?
I swear,
I need my own **** tv show.
however, I think there is something
that needs to be said,
beyond thank you.
I love this jacket
more than
the distance between
the earth and the moon
I have never felt so coddled
by an article of clothing,
than I do
right now.
in this instance,
I have recreated
my own new sense of style:
adorable queer alters reality
via jean jacket
and a black floral romper.
you can tell that I'm a "90's kid"
by the way I sport denim on denim
like it went out of style yesterday.
lovin' it like you got your arms around me.
oh darlin you did not
have to hand me your heart.
here, let me earn it.
let me work for your love.
I am gracious for YOU,
my beautiful gorgeous human being.
for it is you
who makes my heart swell.
my genderless Romeo,
my Sunday morning sweetheart.
push me up against the tree
in your front yard.
I want the whole neighborhood
to know
that my soul found solace in YOURS
and I want to shout if from
a ******* mountain.
making love with you
cleanses my mind.
leaving only room for
the notion of us riding off
into the sunset together
after spending an entire day
consuming the rays
like an all-you-can eat buffet.
and stashing them away,
like a chubby squirrel
during winter solstice.
this whole experience
has almost felt religious.
I pray this is something
I wouldn't part with, easily.
I want you to take me.
you've unlocked my aorta artery,
and I want to
make sure
that you are aware
that you are welcome,
to make this space
your home.

I wish that maybe you weren’t so afraid.

Those were the only words I could conjure from my mouth last night, when I should have been pleading for you to take my hand.

I am not talking cheesy wedding bells and frilly dress nonsense.

Just take my **** hand and let me show you why I love you.

There are no strings attached with me, and don’t you dare tell me that you that you cannot see how loyal I am to you. I should have pleaded my case right then and there, but I am now, and I want you to listen to me.

Writing a love poem is hard now a days. It seems like everything has been said and done in almost every conceivable way.

I don’t want to spell you hand-me-down words.

I want to spoon feed you the lust from my soul as if it were a book that had never been written. Let the words I write for you spread across the decades for all to serenade a doll like you.

I want you to cherish our romance.

I see you for what you are and I see that there is potential for me to hopelessly fall. I may be a tad bit reckless with the way that I toss about my words for you like a lust struck conundrum, but try to see me for what I am.

My hands are reaching for your heart.

Let me in.

I’ve been knocking on that door of yours for days now, and I just want to know if I’m going to get my fair shake at this. I cannot sit here and blab my trap about how or why I’m so different, but I know you can see it in my eyes. I will lose the rest of my hope in this world, if I do not get my fair shake at this.

Take my hand please. I’ll gladly get down on my knees and explain to you why graveling doesn’t suit me, but at this point, I’ll do anything to make this a reality.

I want to show you that chivalry isn’t dead, and that I would do just about anything to be able buy you a 15 cent Coke and take you to the drive in movie in my thunderbird.

This is the heat of summer, this is it.

I’m here.

So spare yourself the conscious scrutiny of my demise, and give me a chance.

You won’t be sorry.

I can hear the soft patter of the raindrops on the tin above me as I sit quietly on the porch.

My feet are hanging off the edge of the steps, out of the protection of the roof.

My socks are wet, but I don’t care because I am nearly soaked to the bone.

Summer rain used to mean nothing to me until you came around.

The rain falling so gently on driveway puddles remind me of a painter with a canvas.

Every drip creates a ripple that expands, running all the way to the puddle’s edge, just as an artist would gradually cover a canvas with paint.

That rainfall was art and you were the inspiration.

Take me back to that moment.

So young.

So in love.

My window sill doesn’t give me that same comfort.

As I open my window to feel the cold night air, I looked up at the sky.

I admire the clear night and the stars all around me, I take comfort in knowing that we sleep under the same sky.

My eyes settle on one star. As I gaze upon it admiring its beauty, I find myself pondering if you were looking at the same one.

You were so beautiful; I used to say that the stars blessed you.

For lack of better words you shined brighter than all of the diamonds in the sky. You were to sun to my solar system.

Your eyes, bright hazel.

I remember, I never could compare them to something as gorgeous as you so I always just said that they reminded me of a perfect cup of coffee.

If there was one thing we shared, it was our love for coffee.

I used to imagine that the sweet aroma of each cup that I made each weary night we spent together, smelled exactly like you.

The rich smell sent my mind on a journey through space and time, creating the perfect image of your touch; forever engrave in my pallet.

That’s what love is, isn’t it?

It turns us in to gullible fools, our minds just as twisted and jumbled as blended coffee.

Each cup of it imagined to appear to be as cold as your heart became.

I have a permanent brain freeze from loving you.

My mind caught in a frozen stasis, allowing all thoughts only to travel back to you.

You molded me into your perfect coffee bean. When every *** of me was gone you tossed out my film.

Used me for your fix, and then threw me away.

I’m all used up and forgotten.

Color me grey because all I see is black and white. I want to be the in between, the fluid perspective of this messed up world.

I want to walk without shoes on the streets of hate because I want to feel the world through every gap between my toes.

Maybe a rock will lodge itself under my skin so that I can grow into something the world would be more proud of.

I want to flow with each breath of the wind. Baring the news of open minds, breaking through their fine lines, leaving cracks in the pavement behind me.

Do you remember when we were young? The world was our plato.

Society taught us that we could mold it into anything we desired, but look around you.

Our World is a lie, a compilation of our hopes and dreams crushed and spattered across the borders of our minds.

In return, society has turned us into bigots and bullies. Get your crap together. ***** war, condone peace. Freedom isn’t confined to the colour of our skin, who we love, or gender expression.

Take me back to when times were hard because I’m sick of being a part of the underprivileged youth.

I want to feel every blow to my body just as if they were my own.

To respect the actions of the past may be repeating the injustices that have been made, but when all is forgotten how is this pathetic world suppose to function?

Crowded city streets filled unfriendly strangers, suburbans and small towns packed with unjustified judgment and whispers of hate.

To the Little queer boy on the rural streets of Indy, you keep holding on to that boy’s hand.

To my soul sister from another mother, keep preaching your kindness even though there are still people out there who will categorize you by the colour of your skin.

To anyone out there that has a problem with the queen’s language, don’t you ever let anyone convince you that you are stupid.

To all those who reside in my community, I promise that you are not going to hell.

Don’t run from the hate. Embrace it. Band together, create a shield with your compassion. A wise man once said, “be the change that you want to see in this world.”

Burn a hole in the back of my mind with the genocides of time. Let me feel the way you did so that maybe I can create a better future.

My love needs to be put to better use.

If they could hear my words I would hope that it would grant them with humbleness because they’d know that they caused inspiration for the future.

For all the writers that have ever taken a pen to a piece of paper until their fingertips bled.
For those who broke down the barriers with chants of the future that they were born to create.

Let freedom ring from every heart and soul in this nation.

Just maybe if we remember the words of the King, we’d finally be free.

This is the introduction to another cliche poem about love...well maybe.

I just want to meet one **** person that enthralls me, that doesn't end up just wanting me for ***. I honestly thought that maybe she'd be different. But, to her, I think I'm just a one night stand.

I mean really??

I just need her to tell me she felt something different with me.

I just need her to tell me that I'm more than some stupid one night stand.

I just want her to tell me that she could fall in love with me...because whenever I'm around her, I'm always blushing, I'm always bashful, she brings out the shy little boy in me.

or maybe,

I'm crazy.

or maybe,

Its just the hormones.

The testosterone is probably driving me little insane.

Oh the unfortunate life of a transman. Sad, but true.

...with a smidge of anger, but that's besides the point...I'm always angry, I'm a poet.

and if there is one thing you need to know about this poet,

its that he likes going off on tangents.

anyways,

I just want to be with her.

Simply because she rocked my world... In more ways than one if you know what I mean.

I want her to be mine...or the respectfully equal to me in the form of a consensual relationship type partnership type thing.

whatever floats her boat...

because I just want to be the ocean underneath her.

and as if this poem couldn't get any more cliche, I'd like to point out that I'm a bottom or whatever that means because I guess she's a top...or at least she's the top to my bottom.

and I like it that way.

Call me a melodramatic hopeless romantic fool, but I want it to always be that way.

because I knew from the moment I saw her briefly make eye contact with me for the first time...I wanted to be her bottom, her ocean, her bashful little trans man. I could list titles forever, but I wont because I'm trying to be serious.

I read her some of my writing that night, and in truth I knew that she enjoyed it. Despite fact that she doesn't like poetry and she apparently doesn't make any exceptions for anyone... I could see in her eyes that I astonished her.

I hope that some day I become her favourite writer, maybe then I could rock her world in return.

I’m just going to sit here and pretend that I didn’t just volunteer myself to the hospital.

I’d like to believe that I am going to have someone waiting for me when I get out because I know that I won’t… besides my mom who, bless her heart, loves me, but I mean I want someone to cuddle me and
tell me that they missed me.

Hold me in their arms and beg me never to leave again.

In all honesty, no one is going to care.

This is why I am a wreck, can’t you see?

No one ever acts like they love me.

No one ever takes time to stop and care about me.

Touch my heart; fill every inch of my soul.

If I can’t figure out how to fix myself then how is any other person suppose to?

I mean, I have never wanted to **** myself, not exactly, but lately I haven’t been able to function properly.

I honestly have no idea what I’m living for and I am slowly withering away.

Please tell me that I am not the huge mistake that I believe myself to be.

Please tell me that whatever it is that is plaguing my mind isn’t trying to **** me.

Please tell me that these tears aren’t for nothing.

Tell me you love me.

Not because I told you to, but because you mean it.

Every inch of my mind spattered with feelings of remorse and worthlessness.

I have no reason to feel this way.

Why do I feel this way?

Give me a reason not to feel this way.

Fix me!

I can’t handle this anymore.

Slowly but surely I am tearing at the seams.

My joints and my veins are tearing from my body, but if no one else can see them.

Does this make me crazy?

My demons haunt me like a cup of coffee that keeps me up all night.

I often times, say that I love coffee even though it makes my skin crawl.

Maybe I just enjoy the torture that comes with the sorrow soaked caffeine.

Constantly searching for something harmless enough to torture myself without killing my soul.

The severity of my situation may never be shown, but I just need you to know that it’s there.

With each tear that falls down your cheek, my heart breaks a little.
And as I stand watch a thousand miles across this lake that is compiled of the sorrows of those who condemn you, those who confine you to the smallest of boats, leaving you without a paddle, small frustration inside my soul is keeping quite.

Suppressing the raging fire that may or may not be blazing over the feelings inside my chest that act as an answer to the quiet torture that you suffer.

You fight your fires with deep breaths and words of wisdom but you and I both know that to those outsiders, your breath has been wasted.

Ignorance has presented itself to you as a new brand of earmuffs; tougher than a brick wall and more smothering than motherly love.

When you cry I often imagine what it would be like to drown in the flood of your frustrations and though you are miles away I can still feel it, leaving me soaked to the bone.

None of this is any of my business; it is not my place to be the lifeguard of that lake.
The saltiness of the water stings when it touches my soul giving off this feeling of urgency to throw you a life raft and pull you to my side.

I know that you are a good swimmer, but, maybe I will be your life guard anyway.

I tried to drink my sorrows away,
but the alcohol wouldn't
take me
like you do.

It can't hold me
in it's arms
like you do.

it can introduce me to new people,
and help me make friends.

but it could
never
kiss me
like you do.

despite
the fact that
I find myself
in a dark alleyway,
thinking about kissing your lips
with my own lips...

my lips
are kissing a bowl,
and
i cannot
bring
myself
to
spark up

without thinking about you.

The words made of pixels sent from palm to palm never felt so sweet.

Longing for the touch of another's presence reminiscing the night air.

Let me skip Moon rocks on the stars outside my window to let you know I'm here.

Let me paint you a picture with every Shooting star.

Minutes and miles that's all they are.

Obstacles and static interference.

this is what it looks like to me.
a queer white picket fence
this is what I believe it to be.
the sun shown through the trees
and rays landed, thusly
on the particles that dusted
the front porch.
begging us to take a picture,
that would eventually
be given the title of "dad vibes."
and the cats are staring at us
through the domestic screens
on the windows, and I swear
that I heard one them gossiping...about
us.
you make vibrate.
it's like aorta telepathy.
something must be wrong
with me.
I swear,
I've never seen a more unlikely pair.
we have the same nickname,
I think that is SO ******* cute.
and yes, let us pillow talk about
road tripping, to see
van gough's bedroom.
and HERE,
I lie with you...
looking up at the ceiling.
surround by four walls of warmth.
canary yellow is something I've been obsessed with lately.
it's something I see in my dreams.
a colour that blesses my soul with the ability to imagine
something
as serious as serious as
a ***** balloon popping contest.
and
as hilarious as
the way, I look
when I'm pacing my way through
my to-do lists.
i know, that it is
spring break,
but a diet of coffee and
"ciggies"
may have contributed
to our lack of sleep
or
maybe
it's the four days we spend in bed.
then
when you asked me
to sit on your face,
i knew this to be true.
I'd never want to bid you adieu
if, at some point in my lifetime,
my soul could copulate with yours.
if I could beg you
to make more noise.
I'm sorry I'm so quite between
these sheets.
I notice these things
and FIND them to be true.
I left my boxer briefs in your dresser.
my ripe gift
is to be left
for a worthy soul like you.

I love you, but I don't want to.
I want to forget about you....
because having feelings for you
makes me feel crazy.
why can't I let it go?
I should just let YOU go.
but seriously,
I wish you spoke to me.
you know
it's really,
not in the least bit easy
to forget someone like you.

My heart has a mind of it's own
When it thinks of you the palpitations control my bones
For lack of better words my veins are smitten with the thought of your fingertips cascading down my arms
Effortlessly you infiltrated my mind
I'm not talking about the thought of you,
I'm talking about your undeniable essence
It's like an unforgettable scent
I can feel you when you're not here with me and that terrifies me
This is not a ballad about my gushy love affair
This is a poem about how I found love when I needed it most
I found love in the deepest corners of my mind the widest depths of my soul and on every inch of my body.
Inside and out, you make my skin crawl in a way that begs to be silenced by the reassurance of how magical your touch may be
For one effortless month my mind has been condoned to wonder what it would be like to hold you
What it would be like for you to whisper I love you in my ear
What it would be like for my eyes to beg you to kiss me
It's the tension that will eventually set us free
You are the love song in forefronts of my mind that never stops playing
You are hopeful wishes and butterfly kisses and 3 AM dancing in the rain
With you I want to commit all the cliches
I wouldn't mind getting arrested if we could share the same chains
I wanna feel your breath on my neck while we're driving in my jeep
And when my eyes get wide and we find ourselves barrelling down the interstate at 82 miles per hour
Put your hand on my thigh and squeeze accordingly
Tell me to ease off the gas
Say that there is no rush
This isn't a race
Tell me you love the way I hold the steering wheel
Then kiss me on the cheek
Leave no room for doubt
We can take this slow if you want to.
But baby I'm afraid I won't want to
My heart's predisposition to dive out of my chest headfirst into your hands has my stomach in a bind with butterflies.
Point is
I have no idea where this road map of life is gonna take us,
But I sure as hell need you to be my copilot.

Someone told me once, that one day I'd fall for someone on a whim.

That someday some person would just walk into the room and I'd just know that they were right for me, and that I would be able to almost feel this click in the air around us.

Nothing else would matter because in that single moment I would have found a person so enthralling enough to not only capture my attention, but awaken my soul.

I cannot remover you from my system. I am struggling to let go of the urge to be in your presence again.

My fragile heart finally found something it can hold on to.

You make me feel like me, a real person for once.

When I'm around you, I don't have to worry about hiding parts of me.

I do believe that never truly knew myself until that night and If I had before, then that was the night that I rediscovered my ambition love, lust, and life.

You make me feel like a man...or as much of a man as I can be.

The way you grasped my body, felt right for once. For once in my life I felt like a whole person. For once I was more than content with sharing myself with someone else.

Something so simple, yet something I thought I'd never feel.

I do regret letting you see how astonished I was. I knew you could see it in my eyes.

And I knew, that to tell you the truth would have been something you did not want to hear.

I am intense and I feel things other couldn't even fathom.

...but the point is,

You are the one thing I will never forget and the one thing I will never regret.

The moment our eyes met, my life changed for good.

There is no backtracking, no heavy fretting.

Just living Life to the fullest, in hopes that the rest of it includes you.

You, my dear, are my new favourite puzzle. Here's hoping my heart is the key.

Let me into your soul.

Let me into your mind.

Let me into your life.

You have awoken something in me, and I can promise it won't be keeping quiet forever.

This is me reaching out to you.

Take my hand and let's embark on this journey together.

the heart is a optical allusion, a political eclipse.
love and scorn in lieu of guns and rapid fire.
wildflowers at seaside begging to breath saltwater into their fragile lungs.
my dead body lie awake on shore at wave break.
all that goes on around me are trinkets, of rustles from the restless sand.
to follow a lighthouse to shore is better said than treason.
butterflies strung up elastic bands with lips that beg to kiss the hallowed soul that dwells in shadows beyond the sea.
to clip their wings would hinder them from carrying my blood pumping, ***** loving, cliche hallmark card vessel back to the siren that tore my essence to shreds.
she nearly drove me mad so i abandoned my sanity in her trenches.
because in the darkest depths of that murky mess, a spec of light was shown.
delusions led by fluorescent aquamarine promises
and the tangled torture thus followed.
her tentacles had me under wraps, tethered to tectonic plates.
my aorta artery anchored to the floor.
my identity a submarine of cells submerged many leagues beneath the horizon.
her uncertainty loosens the shackles. my determination lifts my body to breach the lucid surface.
at wave break i am dead but also awake and my chest spreads open to soak in the rays that have broken the storm.

cotton candy kites clinging to an infinite sea of allusions
temperament changes are frequent forecast and gravity is the only thing standing between me melting like the wax on Icarus' wings.
i am standing too close to the sun.
a star.
a super nova.
how many more **** times am going to have to tell myself that i deserve better than the women i typically swear by?
i'm always eager to pick up the pieces someone left behind.
expunged memories caught in a loop.
feurdian repetition ,
as if it were a competition,
a race to figure who can lose their sanity first.
i do not believe that people who are "in love" are sane.
i do not believe people who aren't are either.
i am not bias
i just think everyone is a little bit crazy sometimes.
bet you thought this would all make sense by now?
that my imagery would make a reappearance and you'd be able to comprehend the vast intel my spoken heart has to offer.
well sorry to disappoint.
this poem is morphing into a rant.
i am not here to crowd please anymore than i am here to shove my pencil up your...
ear.
i have a hard time giving you my heart because it'd just look like i was handing a ******* hand spun cliche.
the women i have dated have their own gravitational pull
and i'd be lying if i told you i didn't believe a single one of them belonged in my galaxy forever, you see
for i am just a comet.
i get trapped for a while, spun around,
doomed to kiss the surface of anything that crosses my path

these words I know to be true.
we are but stars
shining quite different,
yet somehow the same.
where were you?
last night.
when I was calling your name.
and who am I to blame?
for this constant torture,
this particular pain.
my heart, does not follow
a transparent weather vein.
I know these notions to be true.
for this is my world,
and through me, you'll see,
a whole new shade of blue.
brighter than any sky,
yet still saddening,
still maddening.
I often refrain from recanting
my time with you.
each day praying, I'd become
someone new.
this queer life style
is the safest thing I could find.
and I sure hope you don't mind,
the fact that I bind.
you COULD certainly win me over
because YOU KNOW that I'm about
as lucky as a three leaf clover,
and about as melodramatic
as day-time television.
but then,
I guess it would be to assume
that I've grown quite fond of you.
and I don't know...
maybe you'll find this charming.
or  maybe not.
it's just a thought.
I'm just throwing this out there.
with these last few seconds,
to spare.
I bid you adieu with some confusion. if this lust is truly an allusion,
just like the colour of the sky.
I'd like to remain idle near by.
to see what might come of this.
how we might change and grow,
with this.
for I speak these words in truce.
let us forfeit our sanity together.
it might not be so bad to let myself be here,
to be present
with you
these words I know to be true.

you obviously don't care,
so I'll have to train myself not to.
I cannot sacrifice my sanity for
six seconds of bliss.
I could not even trouble you for a kiss...
you don't care,
you'd hide me if you could.
you won't even give me the decency
that I thought you would.
my heart is as good as cracked...
I know this to be fact.
it's all starting to fade to black.
you are just pushing me away,
just like the rest.
I digress.
*******,
you have a lot of things
to show me.
I now believe,
that I'm truly meant,
not to be happy.
you have slain me.
*******.

queer and tatted.
always running
from
my shadow.

but SHE
stopped chasing me
some time ago.

a ******.
maybe.
that's something
i can be.

yet, i cannot bare
to stomach
what you'll call me.

dare to call me
a woman...
or a ******,
i'll ******* up real quick.

bet you thought you
were funny.

bet you thought you
were slick.

truth is,
you just make me sick.
because
you're
just
a
*******
bigot.

As we're walking side by side my hand accidently brushes yours while you are talking. I had been paying so much attention to the story you were telling about the old family dog you had when you were a kid, that I couldn’t control my body’s subconscious action.

You then told me about how you made him go to all your tea parties, assuring me that he was the life of the party and that he was so much better than all your stuffed animals because he actually ate the cookies.

I quickly pulled my hand behind my back nonchalantly reaching over to scratch the opposite forearm. I saw your eyes shift over to me slightly. I knew that I should have just acted like nothing happened because in all actuality, it really was nothing. But then, I decided that you probably noticed either way, so why should it even matter?

I then gingerly bit my lip as I began to stare at my feet. I could feel your eyes looking me up and down almost as if you could see all my thoughts scattered across every inch of my body. You were reading me like and open book.

Almost suddenly you had gotten quiet. I could hear all the voices around me more clearly. The city streets were bustling with all kinds of college kids, families, tourists, and city employees. The fact that it was scorching out had no effect on the people in this area. This wasn’t the first time I had been down south, but I still despised the dry heat and the fact that I was so terribly nervous made my body sweat so much more prominently.

It took me a moment, but I managed to look up at you hoping that I wouldn’t be able to catch your eyes.  After doing so, I found myself raising my head to your puzzling ****** expression which seemed to be giving me a look that could almost be personified with a series of intense pondering questions. One of which, you finally chose after a few seconds of silence. Then, in an instant, your expression changed.

I could almost see the exact moment in which you realized that you were exposing your inner thoughts. Seemingly alarmed your expression quickly became softer. In the midst of this, I was bracing myself for your interrogation.

You asked me if I was alright and if it was too hot for me outside because I hadn’t really been saying much of anything since I arrived in town. I was able to mutter a slight response, assuring you that I was fine and that I was simply thinking exceptionally hard about something.

That was probably the worst thing I could have said. Having realized that I had set myself up for another series of questions that I did not want to answer, I quickly added that it was nothing important and that we should probably be thinking of what movie we wanted to see tonight.

Slightly ahead of us, on the sidewalk, something shiny caught my attention. It was a penny that was tails up and as we came up on it, I bend down slightly to pick it up. I quickly handed it to you encouraging you to take it so that we both could have good luck, in hopes that you would forgot about what I was thinking. You just causally smile and look at me with those piercing eyes of yours. I smile bashfully in return, and then continue with the request that I was asking of previously.

By then, my stomach was churning with butterflies and I began having trouble thinking about what movie we should see. I guess that I was so caught up in my thoughts to notice that you had placed the penny in the front left pocket of your plaid button-up shirt and then proceeded to interlace your fingers with mine.

In the instant that your skin touches mine, my face turns flush. You noticed, then smirked slightly, and proceeded to tell me that you were excited for the movie.

You broke me.

Grimy, slimy, pathetic lover.
You're sly as a snake,
coy as a cat, and just as cute.

My empty ribcage feels no pleasure,
Thanks to you.

Though I cannot say I am surprised because your comfort has always resulted in my utter demise.

I'm broken.

I'm a fool for you darling.
I dream of your lips in waking.
I love all that is you.
Your essence resonates through the distance.
It keeps me company.
It keeps me warm.

I find myself sitting on the kitchen floor for the last time, just as the setting sun peaks it's rays through the window adjacent to the stove.
Pouring light cascades the room in warm hues of yellow and orange equally shadows are cast on crevices that are plainly seen in the light of day
The open curtains hanging on the balcony door grant me the ability to take in the nostalgia of a scene beyond the glass.
It is a constant begging force that has convinced me to seek out a journey beyond the shell of this metaphor I call home.
For outside that door I found my sanity
timeless memories lost in clouds of smoke and scraps of love lifted from candlelit conversation
through the temperament of a Hoosier summer I gained company and solitude.
I found courage and adversity
Out here on this porch I celebrated a turning point in history
I spent many a nights patching my heart with ruffles of herb and the condolences of cicadas
The railing became my back bone
I was on par with the trees
If you listen to their leaves you will hear my secrets
Then just as brief the passing cars will whisk them away
Nearing sunset I set foot into the realm of my sorrows
an extension of myself imprinted a sense of gratitude on my soul
A bittersweet silence haunts the air around me
As hues of purple and blue grow in the clouds beyond the skyline
Fireflies paint the night below with petite shimmers of hope and sparks of foreshadowing
The sheer essence of my aloof comfort and the mirroring image of my youth calls out for me in the fading light of the last sunset I share with the closest thing to home I've ever owned
I can feel the wind whispering goodbye on my cheek and the street lamps flicker on as the traffic ceases to exist around me
for a moment my world is frozen
All is calm
All is well
All is bliss
And as the pages of this chapter gradually close, I begin my journey again.

i had just given up,
on coffee,
when i met you.

but your life is coffee.
so my heart just agreed.

i love when you put your arms around me.

but listen, i need you to pace this out correctly.
i need you to just hold on to me.

cling to me like a spy
on a grappling line.

and i swear,
i honestly don't mind
if you smell like wine.
sometimes.

i've been meaning to write more poetry.
but i'll probably never use this.

for it to turn out presentable...
i guess would my only wish.

because i needed to find a way
to say i love you
without having to stumble
over a bunch of other words.

that can wait till Wednesday.

but i bet that is something,
you already knew.

look, let me just say that
i am afraid of falling for you.

my track record is not so great,
and i've got a lot of activist work on my plate.

and what is the distinct possibility
that you and i,
could give each other what we need?

i'm just so terrified,
that you might leave.

my life has been full of a lot of ****** things.
i don't need another chance to be broken.
and it's been a few days since we've spoken.

i don't care how long it takes...
i'll stick around.

i feel like something
you picked up from the lost-and-found.

or a pathetic puppy from the pound,
like those dogs Sarah Mclachlan talks about
in the ASPCA videos.

i was homeless once.
does this mean that me i qualify
for this new space
to take the place of my new home?

the first time we ever had breakfast together,
you made me sit on the counter
while you were busy at the stove.

little did i know.
i fell in love that day.

and i hope you can find that to be okay.
because *******
i love you.

this morning
I did not wake up in my own bed,
the last thing,
I remember
was the silhouette in the doorway
THEIR silhouette in the doorway.
and I know this is real.
yet I digress
I propose this is a dream,
consequently
in true half-awake fashion,
the silhouette slips away from me.
so I slip deeper into sleep.
this cycle isn't too kind, you see.
I find myself on repeat.
day dreaming of THEM
between THEIR sheets
for what could this mean?
I dreamt of times spent
dancing in rain.
drinking hot tea, watching droplets
plummet down glass pains.
rosie cheeks and fogged spectacles,
yet, they collectively,
look a bit skeptical.
the clouds seem to say,
who need NETFLIX AND CHILL,
when we could climb that tree?
when we could get sidetracked,
you and me.
side by side,
we find synchronized breathing.
will you help me,
decipher this hidden meaning?
here I find rays gleaming.
since when did YOU and I,
become we?
I'm not even sure that you fancy me.
this notion fills my head.
rays streaming
through the glass pains.
this afternoon, around about three.
I did not wake up in my own bed.
the last thing,
I remember
is that I thought this was a dream.

Like a bolt cascading from the sky, my heart blazes a path.
The mess of it all parts way and the butterflies are released into the clouds.
Cotton candy puffs of green.
No fairy dust in the world could compare to how I feel when mind lingers in the thought of you.
To not know your smell or touch makes it simple.
Easy for me to pretend.
To pretend for just one moment, that I could be happy.
I have skeletons that rattle my ribcage, reminding me that this bliss is temporary.
A melancholy notion in disguise.
That part of me will always remain, even through the brightest moments.
I take in breaths each day hoping that my heart will find its way through the nimbus, despite the fact that I know that what we have is scattered in the frigid depths of limbo.
A not so secret cellar in my brain.
Tucked away behind transparently frosted walls.
The processing unit is beginning to fail.
That world is caving in.
It's lost its luster.
And like a grain of sand it anticipates the waves washing it away.
A piece of me belongs to you.
It's fate falls on you.
Will you be the rain that mixes the sand?
...or the wave that carries it away?

may we all
dream dreams
that can
never
be crushed,
and
may all your crushes
never
crush you,
for it is the lovers
who are the lucky ones
and
the heartbreakers
who will be
forever shunned.

these words I know to be true.
we are but stars
shining quite different,
yet somehow the same.
where were you?
last night.
when I was calling your name.
and who am I to blame?
for this constant torture,
this particular pain.
my heart, does not follow
a transparent weather vein.
I know these notions to be true.
for this is my world,
and through me, you'll see,
a whole new shade of blue.
brighter than any sky,
yet still saddening,
still maddening.
I often refrain from recanting
my time with you.
each day praying, I'd become
someone new.
this queer life style
is the safest thing I could find.
and I sure hope you don't mind,
the fact that I bind.
you COULD certainly win me over
because YOU KNOW that I'm about
as lucky as a three leaf clover,
and about as melodramatic
as day-time television.
but then,
I guess it would be to assume
that I've grown quite fond of you.
and I don't know...
maybe you'll find this charming.
or  maybe not.
it's just a thought.
I'm just throwing this out there.
with these last few seconds,
to spare.
I bid you adieu with some confusion. if this lust is truly an allusion,
just like the colour of the sky.
I'd like to remain idle near by.
to see what might come of this.
how we might change and grow,
with this.
for I speak these words in truce.
let us forfeit our sanity together.
it might not be so bad to let myself be here,
to be present
with you
these words I know to be true.