In the cold, dark I sit,
Bereft of your warmth.  
Assailed by cacophonic din
Without your buffer.

I am shattered.

Black secrets descend upon my dreams
And chase sleep from my bed;
As swift as the purple night
And as uncaring as the wine-dark sea.

My mind drifts to you,  
Lying in the half-world of sedation,
Body pierced through
With vines of plastic and wire.

Discordant melodies surround you,
My heart keeping distant time,
While shades strive to
Make whole what is broken.

Through the pain, I keep vigil,
Me in my hell, you in yours,
Until your sweet voice sounds
And we reunite in dreams less dire.

Im obsessed with you.
you don't know this,
I write letters and put them in a box.
The letters are for you,
but I don't have the courage.
I asked you once,
you rejected me.
I became obsessed,
it only got worse when I talked to you everyday
Im obsessed and don't know what to do.
You're my focus,
You're my favorite,
You're like a show.
I'm obsessed and your my problem,
you're like a drug,
once you become addicted,
you can never go back, you become obsessed

So they say:
I am diseased
because I’m different.
I am disgusting,
for I am distinct.

I am a widow on the wall,
a cockroach in the kitchen.
I am stubbed within the sand,
gouged into the grass.
You hold me in your index,
and huff me out your mouth,
for I, the English cigarette;
am a sickness in your lungs,
and the cancer beneath your feet.

I am black,
I am bubonic,
I am a plague.

They seem to fear my spread,
yet, I am pushed, I am prodded,
I am pummeled down to bone,
for I, the English cigarette;
am extinguished by your touch,
a light, and lifeless ****,
an easy target
caught between your malice
and the cruelty of your words.

A fainting pink, the color I have to resist
To stare at as we pass by the textured walls of our hallways

There isn't much he knows about her,
Except for the bottles of strawberry flavored wax
She takes and uses up within months

I dream of what it tastes like.

Not the strawberry scent she lingers on every one of his clothes
But the lips she has to polish every single hour,
Applying and reapplying
Again and again

On my bed, I hold that scent close,
That stain of wax that missed her skin,
Landing mistakenly on my shirt

If I rub it off on my cheek,
My neck,
My lips
Would it be the same?

The same type of love she gives to him,
On 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒅,
To 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔,
In 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎...

The room that stands next to mine.

I cant help myself.
That artificial sweetness on her skin teases the strings I spun just for her in my heart
When I weave my way to her through the harsh rivers of doubt to get a whiff of what could've been
A future without scented walls to separate us

But hearing her through those thin plaster barricades,
My waxy layers melt off,
As the canister holding my strawberry sacrifice calls from the basin
Of discarded chapsticks that once gave her so much joy

Give me the satisfaction
Of knowing that you're recycling this affection
For what?!
Why don't you enlighten me with capped closure
Instead of covering up essential oils with his favorite perfume

Because even when you force yourself to pucker up into unscented soberness,
You know you can't stand the blank space
Between this balm and your lips

So I'll ask of you tonight, my one and only, to please
Hold me tight,
Lead me on,
And promise to love 𝒎𝒆...
Through your chapstick kisses to him.

There once was a man who entered a pub
He sat down at the bar counter and ordered a drink
Minding his own business
Enjoying a cold beer sliding down his throat like silk
When a stranger approached him and took a seat right next to him
After some small talk the stranger asked the man
May I ask you a personal question?
The man replied, Sure!
He knew what was coming
He had heard this line so many times before
He also knew that the married stranger who had two kids was looking for something that he couldn't find at home
Are you gay asked the stranger blatantly?
Yes, I am, answered the man!
Why do you ask?
Not to worry said the stranger
I have lots of gay friends and they're actually nice people
Actually? responded the man
Yes, said the curious stranger
Then the man said to the stranger
Alright, so you've asked me a personal question
It's only fair that I should ask you a personal question too, right?
Right, said the stranger
Are you straight asked the man
Of course the stranger replied!
Not to worry replied the man
I have lots of straight friends and they're actually nice people