*******.

That's the first word that came to mind
when I met you.
"What an *******. I want nothing to do with you."
It's funny how things change, huh?
Not the you being an ******* part.
That's still true.
But now all I want
Is to be around you.

Inconvenient
Why are feelings so inconvenient?
My luck, I guess.
That's what I deserve for playing make believe.
For all of those time I fell into a daydream
Where we love each other
and everything is alright.
We'd be together and my fears
of being alone would be gone.
I'd get to wake up in the morning
next to your warm body
your head on my chest
listening to my heart saying thank you
for being alive.

Dreaming
I like dreaming.
A dream is like a blank canvas.
When you drift away,
you arrive to a giant mass of white
getting to stab at it with your brush
until it fills with color.
I love when I get to paint.
There is always
sunshine
rainbows
and you.

Reality
I wake up and get slapped in the face by reality
I'm forced to look in the mirror
And see everything I've been afraid of.
Nothing will happen. With us.
You've got your eyes set on someone else.
And I've got mine set on the softness in your eyes.

The fact that I'll never have you
is what I've come to accept.
It's what I've come to know.

But that can't numb the feeling
of tiny knives dancing around a fire
burning in my belly
every time I see your face.
It doesn't dim the light I see
when I work up the courage
to look you in the eye.
It doesn't stop me from wanting
to wrap myself in your laugh
and just melt.

From wanting to walk in front of you
and shield you from the
hate
ignorance
and dagger-like words
being thrown your way.
From wanting to walk behind you
and catch all of the pieces
when someone crashes through
that beautiful puzzle
called your mind.
From wanting to walk beside you
our fingers intertwined
with a promise of never letting go.

Always
I'll always have a place
in my heart for you.
For all of the moments
when you chased away the rain clouds
on my stormiest days.
The way your shining smile
never fails to create
a speck of beauty
against a dark silhouette of ugliness.

Instead, I'll just dream
and hope I never wake up.

Love.

It's such an easy word to scoff at.
We are born with our parents
nursing us on it.
With promises of never letting
that well run dry.
We live the rest of our lives
dedicated to finding that love in another person.
To discover that true, pure chemistry with someone.

As much as I hate to admit it
I want all of this and more.
I'm only human.
I just can't break out of this cage.
A cage built on a foundation of
ignorance, Jesus, loneliness, and hate.

That must be what a tiger feels like.
Living everyday enclosed by thick glass walls
watching everyone else live the life you want.
To be able to walk outside
with my fingers interlocked with the person I care about most
Without being stared at
Without being told it's unhealthy
Without having bibles thrown at us.

I'd ask my parents to make me free
But they'd just swallow the key
So I'd stay in there forever.
Because letting me breathe the outside air
would be conceding to what their upbringings told them.
It would be admitting that their baby boy is abnormal.

Somehow they didn't get me the memo
that I can't share my love the same way the normal people can.
That I'll never be able to feel the soft skin of my own child
or be able to hang a piece of paper on my wall
announcing my promise to keep my love forever.

You know, it's not like
I ever wanted to be in here.
I didn't choose to be trapped.
I didn't choose to have my life criticized and nitpicked.
I didn't choose to feel like a pariah.
If there was any choice involved
It certainly wouldn't be this.

I spend my life screaming
and pounding the glass
hoping people hear me but
really wanting to hit hard enough
to shatter some of the glass
and let the shards meet my skin
so I can feel something other than
guilt
shame
and embarrassment.

For now, I just stand hear
Wishing, hoping, needing
Someone to see me.
Someone to hear me.
Someone to find a key
And free me.

Just breathe.

That's what people tell me.
Angry? Just breathe.
Emotional? Just breathe.
Sad? Just breathe.
Breathing will relieve you.
But what if breathing is what you're most afraid of?

What if breathing feels like a million lit cigarettes
dancing a tango all over your body?
What if breathing feels worse than not?
The most basic act you need to perform
to stay alive is what gives you a longing to die.
Ironic, huh?

Deal with it.
Things could be worse.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

As much as people would like to think
I'm doing this for attention, I'm not.
I would never put myself through this
for a few minutes of spotlight.
I wish I didn't have to give myself a pep talk
every morning just to walk out the door
because I'm too ashamed of people looking at me
and seeing what I see.  

As much as people would like to think
I feel sorry for myself, I don't.
I feel sorry for the friends that choose to stand by me
wanting to take away my hurt but not knowing how
because I'm too arrogant to accept their help.
I feel sorry for my mother whose own sadness
I've failed to find an answer to.
I feel sorry for both of my parents,
because they live in such small minds that
being my true self would be too much
and crush them.

As much as people would like to think
I should just deal with it, I can't.
Maybe I don't know how.
Maybe it's a puzzle I can't find the pieces for.
Maybe deep down I'm just selfish.
Maybe I let myself get this way.
Maybe I like feeling the pain.
Maybe I'm scared of what I'd feel instead.

Maybe I wish I wasn't such a coward.
Sometimes I wish I was strong enough to let
the shiny sharp silver take the ride down the river
of my arms and watch all of my disappointments
and failures and ugliness and mistakes
drip from my skin to the concrete.

Maybe I'll deal with it.
Maybe I'll stop being selfish.
Maybe I can find the strength
to muster up a weak smile,
and fool everyone.

Maybe I'll just breathe.