Your very presence does to me,
the inexplicable.
I watch you shyly.
You, walkin' like a lady.
in smokin' yoga pants.
Lately rocking only sweats.
I swear you had a beard one day.
I want to approach you, eager, and say:
"I like it. Please take me away."
Confines stunt now and wilt my insides
when I simply chance a glance at mirrors.
Why would I stay here when I'm unwelcome?
These ******* confines wilt me and
will **** me someday, much faster then the
cancer I'd like.
Can't get you out of my head,
thrashin' nightly in my bed.
Who the ****'s to say I can't live the way
I see myself deeply, inside out?
But then I dream about the toilets.
I still dream about the tension.
How do you walk so tall
and split the difference when you're broke as ****?
Morally bankrupt, hunting pennies to pay your sins?
Is this line you walk
the brittle back of safety, or
is this line that's been drawn
the fear of native captives
waiting for spit?
I like it so much I'd even meet you
on your worst day just knowing
I could be the god I am,
without definition,
**** and lying on grass.
The tears of gender on my bed sheets,
too tired of the run to get up.
I'll inter myself, to ******* rise anew,
no obligations outside of love,
and if it makes old love boil in blood,
then,
****.
