the words i wrote at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, twenty
did i truly understand them?
do i truly understand them now?
i'm closer to thirty than i am to fifteen
and i'm just staring at this keyboard
of a laptop i didn't buy
listening to kesha on a speaker with the volume turned up 'way too high'.
i think about the days i laid on the floor, listening to kesha, with the volume...yeah, way too high.
i would lay on the floor of the room i grew up in
a room whose walls, if they could talk, would just weep
they would sob with all their might
the distress, suffering and bloodshed they've seen
and i'm still here, alive, more than just alive. living.
and i wonder, could there be a way to slip back in time and watch myself on those cold, lonely, empty nights?
"ain't it funny how time flies? fades into gold. now i wanna do a drive by, but i cant find the road... back to wonderland, where it all began."
"feels like it was a movie, that plays in my mind. shadows of a past life, wish i could rewind."

when did i learn to be so full of shame?
so inhibited and so suffocated?
it feels like i was more free in a sense
when i was writhing in pain and emptiness
but now that i have to have my head ******* straight on
to survive in this world on my own two feet
with everything i do, every step that i take...
shame engulfs me like a raging fire that came on with no warning.
even now, i feel ******* stupid writing these words

but in times like these,
i also feel completely and absolutely mentally ill, unwell, destroyed
and somehow, it's freeing.
i want to act like a lunatic
i want to make unidentifiable noises
i want to be called unstable
at least then i'll get a pass to be unhinged and absolutely myself
without the pretence of sanity and civil behaviour
without needing to be so painfully aware of the fact that 'we live in a society'
**** that
i am my entire society
i write the rules and i erase them
at my will

mentally ill, depressed out of my mind, numb as all hell, withering away
but completely and entirely free to be myself.
act out, lash out, scream, cry, crawl, hiss, flail, fail, growl
do it all
**** what anyone thinks
i'll do as i want.
i'll be me.
that's it.

there are only two genders
trans is not real
are you a boy now?
i would be open to experiment, though
you need to have your brain checked
what are you?

unsolved.
i am unsolved.

an unsolved puzzle,
equation,
mystery,
rubik's cube,
mirage,
the horizon.

everything you can't figure out at first glance,
something you have to squint at to understand.

but i don't need solving,
i don't need understanding,
i don't need to keep explaining.

i am me,
i am unsolved,
and i am happy.

you are electric blue,
charged up,
wreaking havoc like there's no tomorrow.

you are fiery red,
up in flames,
resisting change,
can't keep a straight face.

you are blood orange,
smiling through the pain,
a cheshire cat stare.

and you are sunset yellow,
soft and kind - the warm embrace of a lover.

you are a stroke of violet,
taking life as it comes,
slow, unwavering.

you are the pink of cheeks that blush,
a slow dance in the kitchen at midnight.

you are starry night black,
flawed and beautiful and eternal.

you are green swiveled into white,
serene, calm, still.

you are the full spectrum.

so do your dance and paint every empty canvas with your palette a different pattern every time -
this is why you are alive.

when you open your eyes
i see vast space
where your thoughts flail
like leaves on a windy day
when you begin to speak
i hear and old soul
with a lingering passion
to go on, move on, what next
your words burn me
like a cigarette on raw skin
they pierce through me
like a thousand icebergs all at once
and when you try letting go
and becoming someone else
i beg for you to return
and wrap me once again
with poetry and prose
cuss words and all
you are all the oceans
and galaxies
the whole universe
and what's beyond it
baby you
could be the hope for all posterity