If my lips
kissed your neck
would it
kiss them back?

"what do you want?"

A meaningless question
with doubtful answers.

"What do you want?"
I want to walk outside without
having to feel worthless.

I want to be able to be taken seriously,
despite my taste in fashion or body modifications.  

I want to be able to love someone and not
hide my passion because you wouldn't approve.

What I want is to be accepted for me,
nothing more and nothing less.
Just me.

I'm not anti-gay;
I enjoin their parades.

I'm not anti-lesbian;
In truth,
I'm in love with them.

I'm not anti-trannie;
I'm Granda not Granny.

I'm not anti-bi;
But still I won't try.

I'm not a misogynist;
Though I use  the word chick.

I'm not Questioning,
Anyone.

I'm Pro-Life,
And Pro-Choice.
A singular voice.

Take it easy.
I've foibles
Shared by
The race.

I'm in love

with the air
flowing through my fingers
never to grab
never to let go

the feeling of freedom
accompanies me as my hand is outstretched
going 50 down I40
i never want this to end

I'm in love

with the way the music flows
from the radio
bass vibrating my bones
sound waves caress my face
they make me smile

like you used to.

Pretend it didn't happen.
Act as if she is crazy
    for remembering: for being hurt.

Then act like her hurt
    has no basis in reality.

Call her crazy.  Emotional.
    Dismiss her humanity.
    Dismiss her.

Then, treat her with disrespect.
    When she objects,
    remind her she is
    too emotional, crazy,
    that her memory is flawed.
    She is less.

When you want something,
    rescind all this,
    remember tenderness and care.
    Flip again if anyone notices.

Keep her questioning:
    then she will stay silent.

What torture it is
to witness love,
only from a far,
and never participate.

I find myself
writing about what
love should be
sharing cute couple
pictures with cheesy quotes
and yet still being alone.

I feel that I am doomed
to be the stenographer
of this little blue orb,
and all that lies outside its walls.
I document but never experience
I write but never feel.

My only regret is
maybe my one true whatever
has already come and gone,
and left me behind,
but wouldn't I know if I had
been in that one true
whatever?

And so, I will write on,
observe love from far away
and hope for my
one
true
whatever.

you can’t feel regret with a bullet through your head
you can’t wake up to the smell of stale *****
or see FAILURE printed on your forehead in the mirror
or hear your own thoughts that seem to be in such greater quantities than everyone else’s

it’s the best solution for a hangover
the cure for the worst headaches
an end to all thoughts that seem to be in direct contact with whatever makes your stomach twist
            your chest tighten
            your palms sweat
            your eyes well up

the list of pros and cons is dramatically lopsided
force yourself not to think of the look in her eyes when she sees you every other weekend
block out the sound of their laughter when it’s 3am and no one can sleep
put blinders on: see tomorrow
                          see the day after
                          see disappointment and regret and broken bottles
                          because sometimes you stumble

only then will you be able to give yourself the right answer
when you ask, “would that be so hard to walk away from?”