There was thunder and there were black skies.
I was on the roof of my apartment building.
there I was.

It wasn't all that tall. Three stories.
I wasn't sure if that was good enough.
Just before that.
My sister was in the hall.
She was reading I think.
I had just showered. Before the power went out.

The rooms were occasionally lighted by the thunder.
Just for a second. I was lying on my bed.
I didn't wear pants because I couldn't see where the closet was.
It was dark and the power was out.
It still didn't rain.

I heard something splatter.
I get up.
I sit there still of a second.
Minutes.
I lie back down.
I've a terrible headache.
I get up after a while and feel nauseate.

It wasn't something I ate. I look around.
My parents aren't around. It wouldn't matter.
They would be famous soon for all the wrong reasons.

 I think about how funny it'll be if I snort some ibuprofen.
I get up and drink some water.
I walk out to see the sky.

I keeping walking.
I think about how it'll be from the roof.
So I climb up the stairs and I keep going till I reach the top.
I look around and see that the power has come on.
I stand up on my tip toes to have a better view and then I look around.

It's still thundering.
I get up higher on the ledge now.
I think of myself.
My father thinks I am a liability.
I think I am a liability.

He said he doesn't have anything for me.
I have nothing for me either.
I think and I think and then look down.

I see myself lying there yet I'm here.
On the roof. I look down and I see myself lying there
but I'm here on the roof.
I look down and I see myself without life.
My head is open, bright red spilling out.
The rest is white noise. I look down and I'm no longer on the roof.

The rain finality falls.
It dilutes my blood to light pink.
Just the colour I liked when I was small.
The rain carries my blood away from my head.
My family doesn't even know

I love how you pronounce my name,
so out of accent or character.
You make it sound so special.
as though it may belong to Someone else completely,

But you spell it out of conjecture.

you are always there,
in the back of my mind.
creeping down my spine ,
with everything that reminds me of you.
I wonder if that's the same with you?

I love how quirky and weird you are.
I love your extravagant exaggerations,
I love how I can pick you out of a crowd.
Even when you are walking miles away
with your back to me.
wearing that stupid scarf I gave you.

just so it reminds me of you

The obsession is just half the queer.