A man once remarked to me
That romance was not about
Finding the one special human being
Whose personality suited your own perfectly

But was instead was more about

Finding that one in the crowd
Whose particular brand of pure insanity
And other various quirks and oddities
Fit perfectly in place with your own

Real love

Life is split by our only purities
Black and white; hate and love

But which were you?

You started out as gray; so I screamed and smeared you black
It was easier to darken something than make it lighter

But which were you?

Perhaps you were pale enough for me to have lied
I could have just blurred my eyes and made you white

But which were you?

You made my world rotten; gray
Some parts dried white and others soaked in black

But which were you?

You’ve been gray since forever
And you’ve grayed my senses

I am trapped
Encased

In a crusty shell

Of grotesque awkwardness
And ugly flaws

That’s beginning to strangle me

-x-

You are hiding
Concealed

In a sleek covering

Of restrained beauty
And face value

That’s smaller than your worth

-x-

They cannot see
Lies

Assumptions they have made

As the total
Prisons they are

Fools; we ought escape

-x-

Peel away my
Putridity

And I will shatter

The suffocating shell
Of accepted beauty

So we can love

-x-

Burn these stereotyping
Masks

To smoke and ashes

See what space
And freedom creates

We’ll be new beauty

I catch myself
Constantly

Thinking about you

Reminiscing about
Every feature you possess

**** this life!

And **** our distance
I’m missing you too much

A blonde woman sitting on a brick ledge
Is throwing her hands, calloused and raw

The hands of an aging artist

Into seamlessly meshed gestures
Grand but sometimes ridiculous motions

To narrate a story for an amused spectator

She lives for the smiles of her listeners
But lives off the change they drop in her cup

With a bright smile that’s secretly melancholy

Due to the choice she made; to live a free, happy life
Without the burdens of disappointed onlookers

Completely alone

It’s an easily known fact
That I bite my nails
I mean, just look at them,
The uneven, reddish picked skin
It's blatantly obvious

But it’s funny how easily you can relinquish
A lifelong habit like biting your nails
If a pretty girl takes you fingers in her hands
Kisses each individually and says, with the most adorable pout,
“No biting!”

I never knew I could drop a habit so fast

Maybe I’m just weird
But it seems rather
Strange to me

That it is only I
The gay atheist
Will say the pledge

All the others around me
Cocooned in warm ignorance
Refuse to address rights only they have