i hated voicemail
until i met you
now i'd be lying if i said
your stale voicemails
didn't save my life
today.

i found out
another friend is
Sad
with a capital 's', with capital weight
heaviness, of a bomb dropped
into glowing memoriam
sorrys and thanks, in equal measures
the world is
a little off kilter, a little
straighter
now
the sky still disassociates with the earth, in the morning
a membrane of white
stitched by avian sillouettes
awhiles whittling into brittle tones
paneling the arching of our spines
and
the italicized whir points out the
jagged smoothness
of sighs

this floor feels like a raft
& i am a castaway
in an ocean of empty bottles
"don't worry wilson -
i'll do all the paddling"*
wading through the night
looking for morning's land
the soothing, softness of sand
i still feel you,
like phantom limbs
clinging to my hips
like the tide to the beach
like the smoke to my lungs
beer & cigarettes heavy on my breath
dread weighing heavy on my chest
last night,
my fantasy you fell out of love
with my saintly me.

i didn't know what love-making was
when i let men storm my castle
******* felt like a battle
and my shame was loud as thunder
as coarse as the men i lay under
i hate ******* with the lights on
because i look for you in their eyes
every time.
i have shared my sheets
with too many substitutes
but you hold me
and fold me
so well that my bed is a sanctuary
i'd let you stain my skin all night
if you wanted to.

this is for the queer kids
who are taught their ABC's
but not their L's, G's, B's and T's
for the Russian government and the I.O.C
who deny Russian queers their visibility
to the people who call me "******"
i wear your name-calling like a pink triangle
stitched to my sleeve
for the Harvey Milk's, the Christine Burns'
and every queer in between
to the allies who do more than say
"your sexuality is okay with me"
for the Jamaican trans* teen
who was murdered needlessly
to the television networks
who portray LGBT individuals positively
for the radical queers
the POC queers
the genderqueers
the queers who have felt excluded
this is for you
for us
this is a celebration
and an ultimatum
we are here
we are queer
& we will do more
than survive.

i
am like a second-hand record
my surface is scratched
and i have been passed through many,
many hands
the grainy silence between my songs
can be so long
and sometimes i skip a note
but when i'm under your needle
i play like an anthem
you
are so well dressed
it's as if the whole world
is tailored to your perfect frame
sometimes, it's almost a shame
to pull your shirt away from your skin
i wanna watch you fold your laundry
i wanna share a *** of coffee
and play with the food on your plate
but i'll never ask for it to be that way
and that's okay
when you smile my way
it feels like warm weather
you are the sun shining on my face
there are days
when all it does is rain
but everything needs water to grow
there is a tree in my chest
it's roots run down to my feet
and when it flowers i feel it
in the palms of my shaking hands
i hold them up to those rain clouds
because i don't want this feeling
to wilt and die.

i am a wishful thinker
i make wishes on bones
that are not necessarily wishbones
break me in two
and place a bet
on my better half
i'd try & come true
if you wanted
yeah, i can be selfless like that
but in my head,
i am so selfish
selfish enough to wanna share my bed
with you
you,
with the bright spark eyes
and the catherine wheel heart
i wanna make you dizzy
i'm not a firework
but give me a chance to explode
i'll show you all the colours under my skin
swim through my blue veins
and turn them white
with your library smile
climb to my highest tower
and breathe in my clouds
that doesn't make sense
i often don't make sense
i wanna make sense
out of every corner of your body
i want to wear your frame
like a tailored suit
'cause around you
my sunday best is wearing nothing at all
but your lips & my sheets
i often sing songs for you
into my pillowcase
in the middle of the night
this bed is the arena
of me & you
i'm often echoing in an empty room
but once in a while
i hear you knocking
on the door
i always
let
you
in.

how do you ask someone
to ask you
to stay?

dear you, i wonder if i will ever have to specify who you are. if there will ever be another boy i will write so many poems about, so many poems to. you were the first. you haven't been the only, but then again you haven't been the only anything. there have been many since you. so many that i've begun to lost track, there have even been girls. when i met you i was homophobic, but look at me now. look how i've changed since i met you. look how i've fallen. when i fell for you i fell down the rabbit hole. i took too much shrinking potion, yet at the same time i'll always crave more. if i'm smaller when i see you will you love me again? is there even an again to be had? i'll never know for sure, so i've let myself believe that you loved me. that you could again. but part of me knows that our time is over. i can't accept it. i can't let you go. dear. i'm afraid to let you go because there is no one else to hold onto. there is no one like you. i can't breathe. it's been two years and i can't breathe. i don't want it to be three, or four, or more. i want my oxygen back, i want you. i can pray to god a thousand times and i will still want you. only you. pretend that i'm your soulmate and kiss me. one more time?