I think I knew I was gay when
I started to notice girls more than
guys or when
I started drawing them more frequently or
Seeing them in my dreams.
The excitement of just
One kissing scene in a movie with
Two girls just gives me this...
Thrill.

I still think that maybe I'm just
Bi,
Not all the way gay but
I can tell that I lean towards
Girls than guys more and
I think I like it
Better that way.

You are a slowly growing tumour
Feeding on the best things in my life
You are cancerous
And I cannot cope
With the side effects
Of the cure.

I'm sitting on a disgusting all ***** chair on the cellar of an old chop-house.
The eternal boys from my time who failed at school and as consequence failed at life, play foosball.
The girl which I saw before entering the toilet with a scissor now comes out with a piece of hair in her hand.
Another girl stands in the corner, her back on the wall, beer in her hand, she doesn't stop looking at me.
Can't say If I know her. She approach me, she grabs a chair and sits right besides me. "You have no Idea what you are doing here"
"I can't say you are wrong" I reply. "1998. We wanted to take over the world". Now I knew. I looked at her and I recognized her eyes.
"You were right...". I said. She waited for the rest of my point. "...The Problem of the dreamers is that they never sleep together."
She knew what I was talking about but she choose to skip it. "Are you trying to get me to your bed after all this time?". I looked again back to her, my hand on my pocket.
"No. Take 20 cents and go have fun with the boys". I stand up and left. Her name was "Love". Never saw her again.

Like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
Like a baby, stillborn,
like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
and by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
he said to me, "You must not ask for so much."
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
she cried to me, "Hey, why not ask for more?"
Oh like a bird on the wire,
like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.

Suddenly, this year, I want to **** everyone
Or, more specifically, our friends;
My best friend, his best friend
Old friends
New friends
Friends I haven't seen for years.
I think I must be lacking something
But also, it is just about the ***.
Because I'm thirty seven
What if all my best encounters are behind me?
What if the best lay of my life
Is sitting next to me at a cafe
Or trotting along beside me on a power walk?
I don't want to get it on with strangers, enemies, colleagues,
Or the good looking guy who makes my coffee at Starbucks
Just friends
Am I missing something
Obvious to everybody else?

Her mocha sits across from my chai latte, milk and cinnamon under angel white foam shied by that coarse, mud brown elixr of caffeine and antioxidants. Her panini steams trails of chicken and grilled tomato through the air while my coconut and raspberry cake slice sits dense on the plate while I stab at it with a plastic fork; she stirs her drink with a partially engulfed spoon between sips. She texts her friends on the latest Apple extortion and I write jilted thoughts on the word processor of a smartphone that struggles to squeeze into the back pocket of my nameless jeans. The sugar clings to my throat as she fills hers with Silk Cut cigarette smoke. How do you read between these lines?

the conversations
you have with people
sitting in a kitchen
smoking ****
drinking coffee, talking about life
family, kids, religion, all sorts of personal ****
that don't even fit those words
but they're categorized
just like the cupboards
got the salt and the seasoning
shuffled together in order
coffee machine in the right part of the cupboard

and all throughout the night
when everyone is quiet
and no one else is talking
and their eyes are rested
we are uncovering the deepest parts about life
and talking about what it really means
and how to really feel about this ****
and the things that happen to us and how we deal with them
these are times in life
when there is a timeout taken
in the middle of the game
and you're going through it, both lines pushing hard, everyone going full blast
then you gotta take a deep breathe
and talk about it

so that's what happened
tonight
plus some coffee, a marijuana, an e cigarette
and some *******

sometimes i really feel like a *****
not in a sense of a woman
but someone who isn't strong
that's what it's like being a man
but i dunno
this ****'s *******
everything i post i hate
and it all feels ******* and stupid
but someone out there is reading it and saying
oh ****
this dude
is kinda like me

so
what's up
to whoever this is
nice to meet u
welcome to the world
we've been here for a minute
but maybe we can have a chat sometime
in a kitchen
in the middle of the night
and sit on the counters
pass a bottle back and forth
and really talk about what's going on

even if we don't meet in the same spot or share the same views
let's try to make sense of it
somehow
and if we don't
least we killed some time
it was good
spending it with ya

John Keats
John Keats
John
Please put your scarf on.