Do my eyes scare you?
Do your sins live there,
Like monsters grinning at you from
A wounded abyss while you cover your ears
To silence the dark verdict (sure as sugar and no medicine
Goes down with it) that bleeds from their smiles?
Or do you turn your back and avert your eyes to celebrate the
Victory: drunken sailors crooning as the steam from their burning
Ship succumbs to the icy blue ( bright like blood diamonds)?

How can the cities ever thaw
When all we have are our eyes,
Greedy for a smile and emaciated by the winter wonderland
And deadened by ennui worn as armor--
Trashbin fires consuming the smiles and sighs and frightful, lovely
Words we can never say

it's just too cold to say them
with frostbite in our hearts

el día de san Valentín

wet eyes quivering

echoes of laughter around corners
screaming in my ears
and my deaf heart

amor y amistad

A few nights ago I thought I heard my neighbor slap his girlfriend after I heard indiscriminate muffled yells through my apartment walls. I couldn’t be certain what actually happened, so after listening for a while and hearing no more sounds, I did nothing. For three days I haven’t left my apartment. I didn’t go to class yesterday and have no intention of going today. I’ve had moments of numbness that dissolve into crying for no apparent reason. Then this morning I put make-up on for the first time in over two years just to see what I would feel like. I looked in the mirror and felt more masculine than I ever felt.

If you sit and contemplate what you did today or yesterday or last week, all you can come up with are these seemingly unrelated discrete moments. Sometimes I think these moments of randomness must follow some sort of trajectory. I can just feel the connections and it haunts me until I can actually explain why I think domestic violence relates to me, a trans-man, putting make-up on after a spending several days retreating from my life.

Poetry taught me ******* myself
poetry taught me why I shouldn’t
poetry taught me that sometimes
a laugh is a whole lot more than a laugh
and poetry helped me get back in touch
with all of my long lost tears
poetry taught me that girls at a party
love a poet
but girls at a party
don’t know a ****** thing about poetry
poetry taught me that that doesn’t matter
I’ve got a **** and we’re all just animals
poetry taught me how to talk to girls
poetry taught me that I’m the type of guy
who strikes out way less on the page
Ermmm… yeah. Do ya like music?
poetry taught me that getting high
results in crashing lows
and it’s the ascent/descent which breeds art
passion comes from the destinations
poetry taught me honesty
and how to make a lie sound truthful
poetry taught me life and death
and made nihilism seem hip
poetry taught me that my Mum is on occasion
a crazy woman
and that my Dad is more like me than I’d like to admit
poetry taught me that that is all okay
poetry taught me how to be okay in the passenger seat
but also when to take the steering wheel by force
poetry taught me how to make the glint of
a neon sign reflected by a broken forty ounce bottle
into a dazzling beam of lunar light
poetry has taught me a lot
and I’m eager to learn

Her laughter has

worked its way

in between my heartbeats

Smile,
That's the best word to describe it
Lights casting shadows over my spine
You make me a real *******
Grinning at anything you say
Drunkard pen pals
I like your slightly too long/too skinny fingers
Which end in calloused tips
Because you don't own a pick
I know words
But not the right words for you
Always another self made excuse
But I haven't hurt you yet

Excuse me, Ma’am, but do you accept rent
in the form of formless loose poetry?
no?
I guess that makes me the jack ***
Prometheus stole fire from the Gods for us
we re-gifted it for a pair of Nikes
sorry
but ******* don’t we look like hot **** hot shots?
you look good in those clothes
and I can say whatever you tell me to
in a way that sounds almost original
for just a taste of Eve
her kisses taste like bad apples
and I think I’m in love
I think I’m drowning because I forgot how to swim
Nobody wants to listen
we all just want it to be our turn
our turn to cry and make a ******* scene in the grocery store
no I’m not as high as I look
I am way higher
Cheech and Chong? Honk on my pipe of poison
then we can all get goofy paranoia
don’t escort me out of the Garden
it’s cold out there and I’m scared
beneath this mask of calculated courage
all of our friends exceeded the recommended dosage of cough syrup
so they bob and weave through my toy box
with eyes never fully open
**** it, right?
anybody can buy white powder, mirrors, and razors
but not everybody can’t
that’s funny… isn't it?
waiting on the heels of my next paycheck
because hotpockets aren't cutting it anymore
and jah never paid the bills
the lights in my room are burned out
and it is so ******* dark
just close your eyes
run from the monsters which own the shadows