Dear Grandma,

I miss you.
Every time I pray, I ask G-d to say hi to you for me.
Have you heard?
Are my messages getting to you?
I hope so.

I wish there had been more time--
That you got to meet this version of me.
The version that I didn't even know I had to hide from you because I didn't have the words back then or the bravery to tell myself.

Did you know you taught me how to be brave?
Back in '99 just before the world had its
Christian birthday of two millennia
and before John and Rae and Nana died
but after Gordon left us
and some time before my molars grew in.

I couldn't sleep in that house with Mom and Dad at the movies.
But you sat with me and told me stories of
deserts and mountains
of caves and tropical storms.
You told me about your adventures until I drifted off--
Your voice lulling me into dreams of
battling latent fears and
throwing them to the wind.

And then,
You left me, too.

And I never got to tell you.
And maybe that's why I'm trying to be brave like you,
So that doesn't happen again.

I love you.
Say hi to Henly for me.

I used to draw a lot of robots: little vestiges of future moments that trickled out of my pen with a tangible lack of precision and an air of false reality.
Now
I can barely create a thing,
But
For the air exhaled from my
Lungs
And the desperation with which I cling to this
World.

The toxic sting of masculinity,
Poured like molten metal upon my skin.
Like devil's trumpet flowers, intoxication within.
Like a trick, a joke, a prayer to Satan.
A trap, a prison,
A cold destination.
Foundation.
Controlled infatuation.
Original sin.

They say whenever a door closes,
Another one opens.
But I’ve slammed doors shut and
Stood motionless and trapped
In a house with no open doors
And had to crawl out the window
Just to find a new door,
Locked shut.

And in that moment,
she was gone.
She vanished like a wisp of smoke takes its leave from a candle:
retreating quickly and never looking back.
And suddenly,
it's as if it never existed at all,
but for the faint memory of its ghostly form.
Thus she departed.
She took her leave from this world to make room for
him.

His eyes are always clearest after he cries,
As if his salty tears can wash away some sort of darkness that rests on his corneas:
Darkness that can only be washed away by pain.
And in his moment of heartbreak,
His eyes are given new life,
His vision is forever altered,
They are renewed.

I have ascended, become the greatest!
Found my calling as a sadist.
I bought some land and bought some slaves,
With the money my Daddy gave.
I built my kingdom from the ground,
Even got myself a crown!
My slaves did nothing, except the work,
And still they want some type of perk?