I think theres a certain level of self hatred that exists.

It’s very specific but its also the worst kind.

It’s a kind where you disliked one thing at first. Normally because your realised that one thing didn’t seem to you as it does on people.

Or because someone pointed out its difference, saw your unease and then turned it against you.

Either way you didn’t always dislike that thing.
You were uneasy and confused.

The more you pondered on it however, the more uneasy you became, then the unease became dislike.

And at dislike you start to notice it without even wanting to. You see something it you zone out and it invades your mind for a brief moment but then it becomes harder and harder to let go of.

Then the dislike became hatred.

Suddenly that thing is all that you think about. Every time that you’re around people it’s all that you see or hear or feel.

If you’re lucky, for a few fleeting moments, you feel something alternative.

You don’t feel the hate the same way, you let yourself believe it’s all in your head, and you see the part of you as it looked before, as it sounded as it felt, and you dare to call it normal and in extraordinary cases

beautiful.

That is until something snatches you by the throat and plunges you face first into the hatred again.
But it’s that specific type of hatred.

You are suffocated by the thoughts of how that part of you shouldn’t exist.

What do I do if it isn’t a part of me though?

What if it’s all of me, all the time, every single ******* moment?

fear,
an emotion i feel
on a daily basis
looking such a human
in the emerald eyes—
terrifying

they like my hair
the curls, the waves
the volume, the aliveness
but i can’t help but
tiptoe over the thought
that
the fondness of it
is disguised hatred…
fear

melancholy, but alone
oxymorons to me
being melancholy and
alone do not exist together
but somehow
when they all leave
my side like blurry ghosts
the sadness creeps up
slowly, painfully, brutally…
fear

the anxiety inside of me
fueled by gasoline
fires on my tongue
buildings dilapidated
lava flows softly
in a thunder city…
fear

children and their
dreams vigorous with
marzipan and cherries
their fake hair
and fake bodies
and overestimated “sorrow”
their heels snap on the floor
like cinderella i sweep
the dirt off the tiles
as they whisper delightfully
about the ball in
a nearby castle…
fear

oh, to be a swan
to swim in streams
that invite me
to glide in waters
that embrace me—
hunters!
they must have seen
our pure white glossy
feathers from afar
do you hear that noise?
heaven sakes, he’s
been shot…
fear

oh, to have a swan funeral
wearing our hearts
on our wings
fly away friend,
go join the sparrows
and doves
and peacocks in
Heaven
i wish i could join you
i’m alone and melancholy
down here where the hunters
roam
where the apple trees
are seasonal
and not forevermore
meet me,
but i doubt you will
given your circumstance
compared to mine…
fear

I keep my love like a dog on a leash
Always at heel, no more than 6 inches away from me.
I don't know whether i keep it love close to me for protection
Or because i'm scared to be alone.

Come May. Come what may.
The most significant thing today
first Monday in May
my wife six months pregnant with twins
says she’s scared what we’re getting ourselves into.
Like the time I moved into an apartment uptown
I mean way uptown, Bronx uptown, uptown
where I’d never been
bomba echoing in the airshaft
painted the walls banana yellow and moved out the next day.
Lost the deposit.
A few months later moved back to the same neighborhood,
stayed a decade.
I’m not—scared, that is—but they’re not kicking my insides out, either.

There's no easy
Way of asking
I already know
What he's going
To say but
Maybe he just
Needs to say it
So I ask
Him anyway
"Are you scared?"

Only smiles
And a patience
I've never seen
In the face  
Of someone
Who knows
That they
Are dying