You took it all from me
Straight from my skin
Onto your lips
I let you in
But then I crumbled
Under your touch
My city of innocence
Reduced to dust
And from the ashes
A new home sprung
Giving false hope
To my tired lungs

Oh no!
What have I done?
This is madness,
And it's only just begun.
Quick, abort the mission!
Before it's far too late!
How could I end up liking,
A girl that's obviously straight?
She's not homophobic
But she wouldn't accept me
Oh no, oh no, oh no
I've got to set myself free!
Even if I have to lie to my brain
I've got to pull back these reins!

She's not pretty!
Oh yes she is
She's not nice!
Is that what you're trying to fool me with?
She's chubby!
So are you sweetie, and we both know she's not
She's a real ****!
That arguments' already been shot
She's short!
You don't seem to care
She's not my type!
Now, who are you trying to fool here?
Her hair's too long!
Now you're just grasping at straws
Her morals are all wrong!
Aren't those your flaws?

I've tried my best
But I know it's not true
My brain is quite smart
Aw, sweetie, thank you
I'm not going to get rid of this
The way I normally do
It seems this crush is a bit stuck
This isn't just a crush dear, get a clue
So I suppose I may panic,
Because this situation blows.
And in case I've not said it enough-
Oh no, oh no, oh no!

Well, to start off this awkward poem
spat clumsily from the mouth
of an equal or greater awkward guy
I’m straight edge and you’re not
you listen to trance, i listen to pop punk
opposites
but like they say, they attract
not so the case when you’re
awkward as me
BUT GIRL YOURE THE ONLY ONE
THAT CAN MAKE THE SMELL OF
CIGARETTES CLUNG TO YOUR
CLOTHES SMELL LIKE HEAVEN
THE ONLY GIRL I WOULDNT MIND
KISSING AND TASTING ASH
the stress of the day
my lips would take away
and every drunken word
that slurs from your mouth
would be poetry to my ears

I want the small of my back
to be the new home for my hands

I support gay people
I am also pansexual
Won't you do the day of silence too?

sometimes
i read my own writing
and wonder what it's like to know me

hoping the words will open a window
let the clean air in
so i can climb through the frame
inspect the damage, avoid
the broken glass
turn on the lights

wishing the words would be more straightforward
yes and no
black and white
this is how you feel
deal with it

well, i feel done with dealing with it
in monochrome, shades of grey
stealing away the colours
of a cartoon landscape
i think that this would be easier dealt with
if i could see it all through stained glass
diamond-shaped panes
breaking up the scene, shattering
the illusions unseen
and through rose-coloured glasses
black and white become so much more obvious
to my strained, searching eyes

sometimes
i read my own simple, twisted writing
and i wonder what it's like to know me
not the words, not the straight lines
that curve around my soul
but the soft ones
that make up my body, that protect
my smile and my eyes
and the ones that lead gently down to my hands
twisting around each other
in some dance
that attempts to hide the constant urge
to write out my disbelief in the existence
of myself

yes and no
still escape me
but i keep finding shards of stained glass
like a treasure hunt, like some accidental quest
picking them up from the damp sidewalk
discovering them cutting into an open palm
and i take them, then accept the offered hand
looking off into the sunset
through the bright blue and blood-red
of sharp reality

sometimes
i find the words
before they find me

a few untrue facts about myself:

i stand up straight, with pride
in my sturdy spine and my upright gaze

i speak loud, strong and faithful
in the value of what i say

i sit here with the knowledge
that these words might make a difference

i know the value of silence
lies in the promise of truth after the silent storm
and i never break my promises