It takes twenty-eight days to form a new habit.
Only a single February—what relief.
Twenty-eight days to get my weird back,
free, freed to let it all in.
I’ve succumbed to these unwritten and written rules;
they dulled my spirits in small, sinister ways, each and every day.
Even my outer lines began to fade.
Clinging to my contours for dear life,
against sharp winds, pulling the belt of my coat tight around my waist,
arms wrapped around my torso in a consoling hug.
I stepped down slick stone steps to conduct my inner fortune teller,
who, not always credible, admonished me that not much will remain.
“Soon,” they whispered cryptically, “so very soon.”
Understanding less than I did before,
in warm confusion, standing among the pieces of myself
that have been carved away.
Like a block of wood in a pile of its own shavings,
I look down at my naked, deformed body and wonder:
what will be left if I don’t change my ways?
Not much to cling to from here on. That much is certain.
Hollowed by woodworms, red biting ants, and sorrow,
by one ambition after another quietly suffocated.
If you wanted, you could push a finger through me,
from one side to the other.
And every once in a while, someone did—
eager to explore my pain
Enough! No more!
From now on, it’s gonna be what I demand!
It’s gonna be raw and vulnerable,
direct and ****** obscene,
**** and full of desire.
I’ll be standing like David,
towering nonchalantly in an iconic, faggy pose.
Queer, queer, and queer.
Unshakable.
Ambitious, craving, yearning for more.
Thriving for abundance,
licking my fingers after every meal,
licking my lips after every gulp of water.
Patched up by small acts of devotion to myself,
by a nibble of pride, each and every day.
Ravishing.
There’s gonna be sensuality, a lot of it,
with myself and others.
And friendship, the platonic love that transcends boundaries.
Family, long hugs and bright smiles, and belly laughs.
Petting dogs, petting dogs.
Equanimity,
welcoming every last unfiltered drop of feeling.
Extravagance and wholesomeness, full of life.
It's gonna be easy to let loose, profoundly calm, at ease.
You simply can’t beat it.
Give me these twenty-eight days.
I solemnly vow that I will devote myself
to all of it.
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 5:04 AM UTC
It takes twenty-eight days to form a new habit.
Only a single February—what relief.
Twenty-eight days to get my weird back,
free, freed to let it all in.
I’ve succumbed to these unwritten and written rules;
they dulled my spirits in small, sinister ways, each and every day.
Even my outer lines began to fade.
Clinging to my contours for dear life,
against sharp winds, pulling the belt of my coat tight around my waist,
arms wrapped around my torso in a consoling hug.
I stepped down slick stone steps to conduct my inner fortune teller,
who, not always credible, admonished me that not much will remain.
“Soon,” they whispered cryptically, “so very soon.”
Understanding less than I did before,
in warm confusion, standing among the pieces of myself
that have been carved away.
Like a block of wood in a pile of its own shavings,
I look down at my naked, deformed body and wonder:
what will be left if I don’t change my ways?
Not much to cling to from here on. That much is certain.
Hollowed by woodworms, red biting ants, and sorrow,
by one ambition after another quietly suffocated.
If you wanted, you could push a finger through me,
from one side to the other.
And every once in a while, someone did—
eager to explore my pain
Enough! No more!
From now on, it’s gonna be what I demand!
It’s gonna be raw and vulnerable,
direct and ****** obscene,
**** and full of desire.
I’ll be standing like David,
towering nonchalantly in an iconic, faggy pose.
Queer, queer, and queer.
Unshakable.
Ambitious, craving, yearning for more.
Thriving for abundance,
licking my fingers after every meal,
licking my lips after every gulp of water.
Patched up by small acts of devotion to myself,
by a nibble of pride, each and every day.
Ravishing.
There’s gonna be sensuality, a lot of it,
with myself and others.
And friendship, the platonic love that transcends boundaries.
Family, long hugs and bright smiles, and belly laughs.
Petting dogs, petting dogs.
Equanimity,
welcoming every last unfiltered drop of feeling.
Extravagance and wholesomeness, full of life.
It's gonna be easy to let loose, profoundly calm, at ease.
You simply can’t beat it.
Give me these twenty-eight days.
I solemnly vow that I will devote myself
to all of it.
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