living life , like reading a book
read over and over
knowing it forwards and backwards
understanding the beginning and end
I want a different book

Imagine being straight
What would that entail?

"I like men and boys and dudes.
I don't worry about stupid things
Like rainbow buttons
Or saying something wrong.
I flirt I float I know who I like
I know who will like me"

I can't imagine the certainty
I can't imagine the confines
I am not straight
And I'm happy with that.

the day ends with a shower
rain falls through a golden sunset
and the rainbow stretches out past the waves
another *** of gold given to the deep blue water
i breathe in the smell of rain as a gather damp washing
to hang under the verandah's eaves
the cat watches from the window
meowing for his dinner
the rain feels cool on my face

She's in between
what I want
what I hate
and what
I never
had

She was the first sin made of flesh
when no act of love was lewd or wicked
before men and gods
invented shame and virtue

hers were the fingers
that carved the heart of every star
and whose kiss set their fires ablaze
to burn eternally
in the vast emptiness of space
to give us something beautiful
to look up and pray to in the moments
we can find no beauty within ourselves

and beauty is within her name
and the colors of her eyes
and lust and desire burst from her womb
like a wild garden spilling over the universe
to give life hunger and reason

and she carved out a small piece of her soul
to give time a heartbeat
and set eternity into motion
and she is as old as she is young
for she lives outside
of the rules of deterioration and death

she is endless and kind
and you felt the warmth of her breath
in your lungs in your first gasp of air
and you will know her again briefly
as your take your last
and hear the sound
of her gently black wings carry you off
to the place where stars are born
and she carves you into a heart
to float in the sky
and comfort those
who need to find beauty
somewhere outside of themselves

You tear open the scars inadvertently revealing my wounded soul
I try to heal while you lead me on and I follow blindly through your words to see if I can find your hidden messages
I can't tell if they're for me because I have the habit of seeing things that are never there
Words have been known to hold secrets within their expressions and phrases
Impossible to know for sure if the instructions were for me although it seems unlikely for them to be for any other
They present themselves in a manner that alludes to references of me or I could just be delusional
It's up to you to tell me because I am just a thought on the wind like a fleeting memory gone without a trace at the slightest misconception


_______________­__

Pull at the seams of my scars
Tear them open
Show the world my wounded soul
As I follow the ink spilled like blood
To find where you disappear to
With your words that haunt me
Echoing allusions to what we should be, might be, have been
With the exception of we haven't been
For reasons beyond my control
Likely I am delusional
Watching my life like a TV show hoping for that happy ending
Always missing the lucky breaks
My naivete showing every time I get my hopes up
As if a fleeting imagining could be real
Or a daydream of a better life that might include you and I comfortable and happy
Such joys don't happen for the likes of us
Trapped by our 8½x11 sheets of paper
Bound to the life of what if's and missed chances
Should then we not tempt fate and try to break free of our isolated prisons
Making up our own lives as we would dare dream
To evoke an immediate erasure of the norm and rewrite it as we wish

__________________­

Tell me now what should be done
This task I fear is too ubiquitous for a lone human to change
But with the help of a friend, a lover, a companion to assist
The burden won't be overbearing
The clockwork will shatter and the pendulum will fall
Revealing a new exciting variation of life

__________________­

Time and again we sit on the eave of a solution
Only to fall back to the safe and comfortable known
However drab, bleak and dreary
Even now as I write this and you read
We see where we can change
Yet we sit and wait hoping for something simple and easy
Biding our time for that which will never arrive

I cannot look into her eyes
the soul of a mother long gone

I hate my face in the mirror
I dread the stranger within

My sunken brown eyes are faded
Like the falling sand,
the statue of my self is erased

Life is a joke,
and I'm the clown
I perform to an empty theater,
and laugh at my own shadow

The voices are in my head,
the puppets and the songs
the whisperers and the screams

When I lay in the dark,
alone,

sometimes,
I close my eyes,
to the howls of the demons inside

Mother,
I'm married to the night

Someday I had hoped,
that when I'm done with my acts,

Maybe,
In the heavens,
where you live
We would laugh forever,
Like we always did

I find myself doing the things you used to do.
The way you'd bite your lip when you were thinking.
The way you'd put your hands together
During a scary movie.

I find myself mimicking the little things
That I loved about you.
And it breaks my heart to feel this;
That I can't get you out of my head.

Your actions, your smile, your voice:
They're imprinted in my brain.
You became a part of me
And I think that's what made it hurt so much
When you left and took that part of me
With you, away from me.

Everybody tells me
"Just get over it"
"Move on"
"It was just a stupid summer crush"

But you were everything to me
And I don't think I'll ever be able to feel that again.
I steeled my heart and closed off my mind.

I'll never let anyone in like that again.
Never.

But sometimes... I want to