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jay 4d
you’re just a boy, everyone says, but no one gets it like you do. be responsible, everyone says, but no one knows just how responsible you can be. don’t be cruel, everyone says, but they don’t know cruelty like you do, because you’re just a boy and boys use their fists more than their mouths, don’t they? don’t you? because fists (fists, whitened knuckles, dry skin, salty and sad) fists can hurt a lot, but mouths (mouths, bloodied red, bitten raw, bittersweet) mouths shatter hearts, ruin lives, push you down and tie you up, bare and defenceless, suffocating, rumours and confessions like bullets — and boys aren’t that cruel, are they? are you? (even if you are cruel, you are unarmed. you use your fists because you don’t know how to use your mouth, not like this, anyway.) you should know your way, everyone says, but you’re just a boy and all what boys do is get lost over and over again. you walk with your feathers puffed like a peacock, hips swaying like a courtesan, eyes staring ahead as if you’re too good to see humans, too holy for humanity, or as if there’s a place you’re aiming to reach, a destination dancing in your head. but in reality, you are lost. your confidence is an act, your puffed feathers are a mask, and you’re sitting in the lap of the gods pretending you’re right where you want to be when all you want to do — all you truly want, deep down — is to go back home, back to your mother’s lap, back to your sister’s arms, back to your father’s fists.

whatever.

you’re just a boy, and you act like you’re a king because you’re possessive and a natural leader; you want to be rich and have pretty things and be listened to. and you **** like a god because nothing satisfies you like being worshipped with sinful mouths and soft touches. and you fight like an animal because once you’re angry, you don’t hold back, and once you feel threatened, you jump with your paws out and your sharp whites bared, and you don’t give up until someone wraps their arms around your chest and pulls you back and holds you tight, until the wild drumming of your heart ceases into a soft, melodic rhythm, until the adrenaline dies down and the craze to spill blood turns into a crave to be held. (to be loved.) and you cry, but you don’t let anyone see you but yourself even though watching your tears fall only makes them fall harder, the same way young little boys sit behind behind their windows and watch the rain punch the invulnerable glass, and realise that it will only keep pouring down more and more as long as they keep their eyes on it. because the sky loves attention, so she rains more when you’re attentive and awaiting her to change, and you love attention, so you cry more at watching yourself in the mirror and at the mere thought of someone walking in and seeing you, in all your glory, a king and a god and a beast, lying on the ground in the middle of a pool of his own tears, his walls wrecked down and his doors wide open, hinges ripped off.

you’re just a boy. you want them to cut you some slack, but why is it harder for you than everyone else?
im gay ? ***
1/5
cat Oct 22
i never understood the phrase
home is where the heart is
until i was shaking on the floor of
my hospital room and it was nothing
but walls
and even when i found the energy to
decorate with cliché little things
like fairy lights, posters, my
skeletal “art”
i felt the room swallow me whole
until i was nothing but a grain of sand
my new roommate was a wrinkly zucchini-girl
and i tried not to speak to her
but we heard each other cry in the night
and we never said a word
but i could feel her eyes on me
a girl down the hall
heard me talking about my addiction and
she told me she would pray for me
later that day she pushed me
into a wall and pressed her
lips against mine
then told me i was tempting her,
i was a sin
just waiting to happen
so i sat in the dark outside her room every
night before i went to sleep
and sometimes she would
come out
and hold my hands
and tell me she loved me
Kitten Yvad Oct 21
im washed in passiflora by Nest
brown sugar still sticks to my skin
baked sparkling  firmly
into the sweat
Or salt of the waves

psychoactive for me, The Ocean
that is your heart
Infused warm and Clear &Coral;
how are you all things,
that are better things?

Redolent pretty please
all of your love all over me


ya habibi, tu es tombé comme la pluie

and I am washed in it
when you fall so close to me
but can you taste the water
as it rolls off of me? close as we are

tasting all you sense,
can you taste the coconut in
your hair the way I can
when you're gone.
habibi, ya habibika months after you're
gone


wild curls and wild eyes
go grow a forest in my heart
I make a maintenance burn
in our brush

but how I love
Ah. j'amerai

i'll be passiflora to you
make this verdant my nest
able and thriving;
so what time should I
set the clocks to?

that depends on you

So what time should I
Set my clocks ??
That depends on you
hibiscus love why would I
ever set my alarms,
when I dream of you??
missing an island we've never been to, mute for languages i've not yet learned.
all the love you've put into my skin, my hair, my curls, my melanin😭
Kitten Yvad Oct 21
The other dream
the one where we have
tangled tanned limbs
and you have a shaved head

Did it happen yet?



and we are 14
at an antique wooden table
nestled in an alleyway
tucked within my suburb

tearing flower from stem
body euphoria from all within
placated and saccharated with
Creme honey in a
****** passionfruit sunset

we are home
i nuzzle the tail
at your neck
you tell me stop being scared
but I  have already

and its just permission I wait for.
you know, express consent
Maybe I have so much
to learn before then



Still discovering what it means
to be a queer friend
And if I could acknowledge
how very far I've gotten..

all the pain that im not in
right now incase ive forgotten

Baby maybe I have
so so much to learn before then

I'm still learning how
to be a good queer friend

im fine to dream of your skin
if i could just acknowledge
how far i've gotten

.
better dreams. There are nightmares and then there are their equals and opposites.
Kitten Yvad Oct 20
Do not tell me
im too much and spiral
into out of space
waiting to hear that I am not

I can take directions
4, 5 at a time, listen its
discipline but I

can only take so much
of your snide, teasing "harmless"
remarks before i crack

I am with you always
i haven't energy for that

Baby something please.
ask me something practical.
ask me to deliver on a promise

start slow, your words are so heavy god your evaluation so much.

I will get better.
Don't tear at me.
Tell me you know I will.
Remind me I have always been
enough.
Tell me you know I will
Kitten Yvad Oct 17
need to be small
             need to be held
  my chest screams sobs and rebels

Its hardly real;
of it I won't make more.
i love and startle myself...
well ..I try to ignore...

you know, i startle and
          try to outrun
            all the things I adore!
Kitten Yvad Oct 17
where i have no time
where i am nothing but
feelings and my eyes closed
feeling

feeling inefficient for feeling
but feeling oh feeling
yes burning


i go there and i tell you
so that you will not think
i have left you, i have not.

I go, I go
I just want you to know
I come back again



i go. and I come back for you..
over and over.
when I come back.
Its for you. Ya Habibi
over and over.
Kitten Yvad Oct 15
I'd still like to be open
Like an open book.
I'll always want
to be where you are.
But I know you are never
really that far off

Love is more than just wishing or
occupying your space
its been gratitude acceptance
understanding
me
caring about your space
in the human race
Becoming best friends with someone I have been in love with has been the greatest gift in my adult life. Being held with the delicacy of affection of someone in love, while approached playfully casually and familliarly... its all I have wanted for years. I'm so grateful that it finally clicked. Nothing more powerful to me than the empathy and joy in our quirky, affectionate, considering  BI-POC queer lov. 😭I actually believe now that Love Wins
Nico Judd Oct 11
I’m not writing this.
I’m not writing this
because you’d never understand
And I don’t feel like
Feeling stupid

My chords vibrate deeply
when struck by the right person
Spit runs from my mouth
cooling cheeks in streaks of drool
I will not wipe away

You are many things
but you are not
that person.

Remote monochrome;
Colorblind critic;
Pale palette; and
Connoisseur of stale bread

You are pretty
and preserved behind glass
Every hair in place
Curtsy and bow
Curtsy and bow

And that is fine.
That is fine with me.
But not fine enough.
For me.

There are no words for
the shades inside.
Hues you couldn’t see
Even If I were to...
show this to you

There’s so much beauty in the circus.
But you’re the kind of person
who says they hate clowns
Because saying you hate clowns
renders you on the side
of the cool girl in school
(Because of course she hates clowns)

Don’t you understand?
Their performance is not the end, but the means.
The moulding of emotional clay
into a figure you should, but can’t quite, recognize

Shapes that catch you off guard
Stupid grey-brown lumps(!)
mocking the masterpiece you think you must be
Painted faces
parody the unblessed

So I won’t tell you this
because the main act scares you enough
Lifting the curtain
to this wild and unbound hyperbole
would get us all killed

Instead, I’ll stay
on the seedy side
of the canvas wall
and sing all the notes
that your ears cannot hear,

unmask that which is deeply unseen,
collide my vocal chords
with the calliope’s tinkering pitch
Shoulders unhinged and bouncing
like Shirley temple’s curls
on a soda fountain whim

Cuz I am everything all at once
and we are the freaks
who will sparkle beneath the canopy’s great haven
Throw our arms round each other
telling and showing and writing it all

Crying, with throats unbridled.

Shouting,

See me!
See me!
See me!
Written September 7, 2020
Nico Judd Oct 11
Daddy Nico is strong
Momma Nico is stronger

Daddy Nico is an emotional flight risk
Momma Nico will wrap you in her arms and rock you while you weep

Daddy Nico’s heart is behind glass
Momma Nico had to break it in order to live

Momma Nico birthed two children
Daddy Nico wept when they were born

Momma Nico keeps their ***** in line
Daddy Nico scrolls facebook while they play in the sprinkler

Momma Nico does dishes, washes floors, folds laundry, scrubs toilets, wipes spills, pays bills, dust.sweep.mop.clean aaaaand repeat
Daddy Nico mows the lawn, plumbs the sink, takes out trash, builds you a bike, hammers, strips, sands, paints aaaaand works hard to keep this ******* roof over your head

Momma Nico won’t cook
Daddy Nico don’t kiss no boo boos

Daddy Nico sips whiskey
Momma Nico gulps Rosé  

Momma Nico knits
Daddy Nico hits up strip clubs (and sometimes *******)

Momma Nico likes girls and boys
Daddy Nico realllly likes girls

Daddy Nico wears Carhartts and gets drunk in the garage
Momma Nico wears lingerie and makes you feel like a man
Written August 24, 2020
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