Dec 2013
I think you should know how broken I feel
How incomplete my life is.
And it seems no matter how hard I try
I never feel like I’m trying at all. I will never be good enough.
*
No! Not good enough. I wonder if I’ll ever find happiness in love. I think that I’ll never be handsome enough for the man of my dreams, I wonder just what it is everybody sees in me, I try my hardest to be how everybody pictures me in their dreams, but I feel like it will never be enough.
*
No! Not good enough. I try to escape my reality into a world of fiction and imaginary deadlines, I feel like I’m leading a limitless life but constantly stopped by the walls of reality which for some reason I just can’t seem to see, the consequences of undermanaged ADD, a fictional disease according to leading scientists in my family but out of my control, honestly. However, that excuse will never be good enough.
**
No! Not good enough. I dance and spin and toss and weave, I exert myself desperately, but these things require bones and muscles, concentration and hustle, these things take time and patience, and I’m trying my best to cover my bases but I’m working off my basic skills, refusing to build atop the talents I was born with, and I know it’s impressive but I’m too stubborn to discover my potential. I know in my heart that I’ll always be stuck at a headstart, and I know in my mind that physical exertion is a waste of time, and I tell myself it simply isn’t enough.
**
No! Not good enough. I stride through practiced steps of one, two, three-and-four, dance instructors always wanting something more, feet on the floor, girl in the air, handle with care, stay in line, always keep time, careful with your dips, and Jake, please don’t dance with your hips. But…my hips don’t lie. So I try and pry at this art, a release torn apart through structure which wasn’t part of the plan, see, I must be a man, though sometimes I stray THAT’S… strictly for play, see, I have to be strong, have to be leaned on, have to be a base, have to stay in place, and that’s something I will never be able to do good enough.
***
No! Not good enough. I tentatively go where no man has gone before, if that’s even what I am, for it simply seems it wasn’t adventurous enough for me to be gay, but I had to stray from what was just seeming normal and find a new definition from what I considered to be formal, but there’s something alluring to the concept of twirling in floor length dress, or the beautiful strain of a high heels caress, and sometimes make-up can be more than skin deep, because the feeling of seeing what I’ve always wanted to see is… incredibly heart meltingly fascinating. But society sneers, and leers, and jeers, and I’ll never really hear the cheers for the men who wear skirts and the boys who get hurt because of they’re choices in life, it all ends in strife when a man gets curious, because to society, those choices are never good enough.
****
No! Not goo-
How incomplete my life is.
And it seems no matter how hard I try
I never feel like I’m trying at all. I will never be good enough.
*
No! Not good enough. I wonder if I’ll ever find happiness in love. I think that I’ll never be handsome enough for the man of my dreams, I wonder just what it is everybody sees in me, I try my hardest to be how everybody pictures me in their dreams, but I feel like it will never be enough.
*
No! Not good enough. I try to escape my reality into a world of fiction and imaginary deadlines, I feel like I’m leading a limitless life but constantly stopped by the walls of reality which for some reason I just can’t seem to see, the consequences of undermanaged ADD, a fictional disease according to leading scientists in my family but out of my control, honestly. However, that excuse will never be good enough.
**
No! Not good enough. I dance and spin and toss and weave, I exert myself desperately, but these things require bones and muscles, concentration and hustle, these things take time and patience, and I’m trying my best to cover my bases but I’m working off my basic skills, refusing to build atop the talents I was born with, and I know it’s impressive but I’m too stubborn to discover my potential. I know in my heart that I’ll always be stuck at a headstart, and I know in my mind that physical exertion is a waste of time, and I tell myself it simply isn’t enough.
**
No! Not good enough. I stride through practiced steps of one, two, three-and-four, dance instructors always wanting something more, feet on the floor, girl in the air, handle with care, stay in line, always keep time, careful with your dips, and Jake, please don’t dance with your hips. But…my hips don’t lie. So I try and pry at this art, a release torn apart through structure which wasn’t part of the plan, see, I must be a man, though sometimes I stray THAT’S… strictly for play, see, I have to be strong, have to be leaned on, have to be a base, have to stay in place, and that’s something I will never be able to do good enough.
***
No! Not good enough. I tentatively go where no man has gone before, if that’s even what I am, for it simply seems it wasn’t adventurous enough for me to be gay, but I had to stray from what was just seeming normal and find a new definition from what I considered to be formal, but there’s something alluring to the concept of twirling in floor length dress, or the beautiful strain of a high heels caress, and sometimes make-up can be more than skin deep, because the feeling of seeing what I’ve always wanted to see is… incredibly heart meltingly fascinating. But society sneers, and leers, and jeers, and I’ll never really hear the cheers for the men who wear skirts and the boys who get hurt because of they’re choices in life, it all ends in strife when a man gets curious, because to society, those choices are never good enough.
****
No! Not goo-
This was original a duet piece, and the asterisks are where my partner would intervene, and she also wrote the conclusion. Unfortunately, I am no longer in possession of the second half of this poem
