Like a fire in Satan’s lair,
Fury burned through my insides,
Gnawing at my hair,
It burned those sitting beside.
The lasting hurt and burn,
Flames squeezing out my strength,
Blankets of heat making me churn,
Glares extending their length.
Tormenting dreams enter my mind,
Horrors feed on my life,
Always a new torture for places they find.
Is this my new life
for all those thoughts that push me
on the edge of insanity.
Am I dead?
Am I alive?
I feel anger searing through my veins.
I consume so much hate.
I am numb.
I am lost.
I am in rage.

You can't be what I live for.
I won't waste breath on you,
not anymore,
I'm done spending my happiness
where it won't be received-
I'm tired of living in torture
our relationship isn't what I wanted;
what I wanted isn't what you wanted-
I've been idolizing the thought of a door opening
when you're just a brick wall-
to open you'd have to be something you're not
so I'm giving up on you,
for me,
but also for you.

Why do girls lie to themselves and tell themselves,
I'm a six
when they're really an eight?
Why do we inaccurately portray ourselves
and seek to obtain these impossible standards
and gaze at our thighs for hours wondering
why did I ever let this happen to me
or noone will ever love me if I look like this
we'll hunch over our stomach rolls and wish
we could slice them off with a blade and they'd heal back flat, all the fat gone;
we'll wonder how anyone could find us pretty
and we'll doubt if they do
because the only boys who have ever been nice to us
are either playing a cruel joke
or are our fathers.
But here's some news: who you are is not defined by your poundage or the amount of lipids stored under your chin,
when you sit down, how far your thighs push out;
or even that terrible bit of fat under your arms
when you wave bye to your gorgeously thin friends.
Who you are is not merely 'pretty'
or 'skinny'
and I desperately don't want you judging yourself
on what some boy's favorite part of your body is
or what passerby think of your ***-
your body is more than skin deep,
your body is more than fat,
you have muscles and organs and things too,
there are more important things, like how
strong your heart is or how many gasps your lungs have had-
those things make you a valuable, important human being
because fat- well- that's not what makes you who you are.
And that's not what I love you for, because darling,
my favorite part of your body is your mind.

it's so funny how everyone loves girls
girls love girls
boys love girls
and sooner or later, there's gonna be no girls left
who love boys

So, what's the deal with ******?
Why is it that there's this whole weird thing
associated with being unclothed,
as if we don't wake up and each of us
strip down for a completely naked shower,
and under our clothes, we're completely naked.
Why is it we spend so much time pretending our bodies don't exist
and fragilely hiding behind these pointless social
constructions about what and whom you should and shouldn't be,
why do we lie about who we are and cover it up
because it's not safe for children?
CHILDREN ARE THE SAME SPECIES AS US.
THEY ARE THE SAME SHAPE.
They get naked too.
and if they're not quite the same shape yet, why do we hide what they're going to become?
It's completely pointless to build walls and act as if they were set there by someone other than ourselves, we've given each other amnesia, it's always 'they', it's always 'society', that did it.
Why do we create all these rules and desperately
struggle to follow them as if we weren't the ones
who wrote the rule book and we aren't the ones
who can erase it?
Why does he cover his emotions because he's scared to be called gay or too feminine?
Why does she wear long sleeves or look down when you talk to her?
It's not because of some conniving voice in all of our heads,
an imaginary force,
It's every time you made a sarcastic joke about people who defied the norm
and every time you yourself were afraid to break it,
you built the walls and now you're suffocating within them.
I see you, there, hiding, just like me, and it's painful to repress it, isn't it? It hurts because there's something more we're longing to do, somewhere else we're longing to be.
What is it that is so broken within ourselves that
we can't be raw and we can't be free and we can't kiss random strangers when we want to?
****** isn't dangerous if you don't hurt
and you don't make someone else feel vulnerable
or like they're trash for displaying
the image of God.
Why are we hiding the image of God?
Why do we cover our hearts like they're shameful to show?
We are born into this world naked and our parents
try to instill this ridiculous idea in our heads
that we can't share our innermost thoughts, we mustn't display,
"society won't like that"
YOU. ARE. SOCIETY.
I am a member of this universe, just like you,
and I was born naked and I take showers naked
and when we get up on stage, we're naked
and late at night, we're naked,
and when we cry, we're naked.
WHY ARE THERE ANY SECRETS LEFT WHEN WE ARE ALL HUMAN?
I have pain and joy, just like you, so show me.
My goal is to unclothe the knights in shining armor
because I don't care about the armor, I care
about his heart.
I will strip down these walls dividing you and me,
because I want to know everything about all people.
I want to unravel the secrets deep within God's mind.
I want to open the doors that are locked,
and I want to see you naked.

poignant and pointing
this is what you will be
second inward from the left
free, you will see

well rounded and fresh
garnished with a ring
growing openly
soon, you will be

we could drink mulberry wine
just above the treeline
bringing you closer to me
complaining I'd freeze

we could have cider at noon
in my living room
the two of us lying
in the sunlight too soon

we can drink poorly spiced beer
lighting a fire right here
the stove searing hot
warming through the knots

soon we'll need nothing
just the other right there
held together with hope
never too far or too near

synchronicity ****** me
or maybe it was the lack of it
the timing so stretched
strewn across the states with nothing left
but things to waste
someday I'll have faith
but tonight I lie awake
with thoughts of you and I
wondering who will be the first to bend
hoping neither of us will break
under the weight of the deepening sand
that's only there to separate.

I have a fullness within. Today it is dark, though not all the time. Blood flows through my veins, carving lines deep inside. Still opening to light, my eyes lost their shine. Dim not for long, they will see their siren song - calling to the mystery, the unknown history that will illuminate the wrong. Wonder will cover the doubts of the darkness, breathe into me the light of my presence.