this is my body
all awkward limbs & jagged frame
a mountain of bones
arranged haphazardly around wooden joints
i didn't want to be a “real boy”
but i didn't want to be a real girl either
i wanted to be a beach ball
or a kite
now my throat is a chimney
my lungs are a fire
& i don’t care who’s between my legs
as long as they spread me
like bible pages
that’s to say,
i don’t believe in god
unless i’m getting nailed
or writing boys eulogies in my underwear
the way i draw maps on my skin
to where the wild things went
i think monster in the closet
is synonymous with my coming out of it
skeletons and all
clinging to me
like dream catchers
full of expectation
that got caught in their nets
that’s why i take
"proceed with caution"
signs so seriously
and i do,
i do at night when i am alone
far from home
& scared that my gay is showing
i do
when boys want more
than to just split me in two
& leave both halves of me
draped over the bed
i do
when it comes to loving him
so unconditionally
that my heart feels like
the only muscle in my body
with any fight left
this is my body
it’s bent & broken
with anxieties
but it is mine.