There are times that I feel I don’t even know you. Times that seem to never fade away.  But, as a child who dealt with you leaving day after day I feel like I shouldn’t be so scared. At age 5, I was little boy wishing to be all he could be.  A kid that any dad would want.  I wanted to be just like you.  Big muscles, strong voice and my own company.  At age 10, I was growing tired of you.  But, I was still a boy, unwilling to see what was actually happening.  You’re seemingly unending verbal abuse secrets a deadly poison into my veins.  Now as I slowly creep my testosterone levels up, up and away, I’ll start to pull down your kaleidoscope colored curtains.  By 15, we couldn’t be more separate.  Divided by dinnertime arguments and back-talking homework battles.  The more you speak, the more I want to leave this house and never come back.  I sometimes wish I could change things but, it’s too little, too late.  At age 16 to the day, I step in the labyrinth that confines me to find you raged and red-faced and she is on the phone, canceling the party. My not-so-sweet 16 ended in a hotel room, filled with unshown tears and bags of Cheez-its. Then, I finally decided who you were to me the day I went to tell my mother about my day at school.  Tears ran like the free-flowing waters of the Amazon as she tried to defend you’re already broken armor.  My brain ran 653 miles an hour as she spoken of a deed I thought unspeakable.  You call me on the phone and say “I don’t know what to say, bro.”  Well, “bro” how about “I’m sorry for literally breaking every life long lesson I’ve taught you and I’m sorry for smashing the hearts and minds of our family.”  That can get you by on our 3 minute 27 second phone call.  Now, I look at you and can’t decide.  Are you still the man with big muscles, strong voice and his own company? or are the shell of a man I still wish I knew?  I wish I could answer but, There are times that I feel like I don’t even know you.

Sweet sing-song kisses take time to times forgotten.  I’d compare you to semi-sweet chocolate chip cookies.  giving me taste of worlds known not to be.  I’d make you the sensual honey in the bee hive.  so sweet, I can’t share you.  You’re like the tall glass of lemonade on sweaty summer days.  quenching my every desire.  The binding touch of your lips is a prison I will most certainly enjoy.  The words that you speak so softly makes my ears tingle.  With you, I can float around galaxies. no gravity exists in this rotary revolution.  If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d like to tell you how beautiful you are, how your eyes are more than windows to your soul, they show mine too.  The amount of words I could write cannot scratch your diamond hard surface.  If I could put poetry in motion, you’d be the ever-so sweet line that melts hearts like butter.  I could use these hearts in semi-sweet chocolate chip cookies, with tastes of worlds only known to us.  We can fly around galaxies, save a dying world and if there’s time, we could possibly fall in love.  You would be my light at the end of a tunnel, casting small pieces of serenity.  You could show me all the things I never thought beautiful, having all of there delightful smells and sounds cascade over me, dripping like raindrops.  The ways you have shown me. bring me back in time to a history I perceived long lost.  This place has sweet sing-song kisses that takes time to times forgotten.  It makes me think of you like sensual honey in a bee hive,  I’d go searching from flower to flower with weepy eyes of joy, knowing that no matter how far I’ve gone or where I’ve been, I can bring my discovered treasures back home. When I finally return to our loft so high about unforgiving soils, I would swarm you with hugs and kisses. I’d love you so undoubtedly,  gods must kneel before its power.   So when our final curtain closes, our show meets a lovely lullaby-style ending, we could ask the world, How does being GAY change love?

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed.  The room is pitch black, hidden in the absence of light.   How many times could I fool myself into thinking I was the only thing she needed?   The fist-shaped holes in the wall and 2 inch deep cuts in my wrist are the only things I have to remember her by.  The how ever many nights I spent running my fingers through my hair, wishing I could take back all of the things that I’ve done. Now, I’m taking a turn onto a new road, a road I’ve never been through.  It seems to be the longest journey I’ve been on and I can’t seem to find a way off this highway of low self-esteem and fake smiles.  The room is cold, just how my blood runs through my veins.  I can’t seem to come to terms with the idea that I just wasn’t good enough,  wasn’t her anything.  Pillows become memories, Xbox is my time machine, sending me back to the day so that my Modern Warfare isn’t dropping nuclear bombs, but the dropping of words that I didn’t have the heart to say. But, the words are just battles, the thoughts become mental warfare.  No way back to past I wished to call a future and if the present is a gift, I’d like to return this for the one I wish I still had.  I cannot even stand on my own two feet without triggering brainwaves that send a suicidal sea into an apathetic ocean.  No one can hear the sobs I’ve cried. The tears that run down my face feel like acid.  Every tear with the burn of you not coming back.  There’s no light at the end of this tunnel because, I’ve been bouncing of the walls just waiting for you to flip the switch.  So I’ll ride this road into oblivion, no stopping a man who’s incarcerated his soul to a demon of deceit and false promises of the heart.   The darkness is caving in and I’m having trouble breathing but, I like it.  In this moment of certain demise, I finally find something to fight for other than you, it’s me.  So, I’ll leap off the edge of my bed,  in a room so full of darkness, hidden in the absence of light, and hope that I can catch more than this final breath.