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May 2019 · 253
matthew
ethan May 2019
there’s a boy
who says i smile with stars in my eyes
and i kiss like how lavender looks
and i walk with a step that makes him want to sing

there’s a boy
who calls me the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen
who wants to plan his future with me
who adores every part of me

there’s a boy
who i cannot love
who i refuse to love
who i’m terrified to love

but his attention keeps me awake, alert, alive

i’m sorry
i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry
Nov 2018 · 1.1k
trans masturbation
ethan Nov 2018
when i feel the burning sensations often i feel like if i burn my fingers i can make it quell
but not go away completely,
the burning covers my thighs and lower stomach and i push my fingers into it but it’s never enough, and yet too much
the burning mixes with a feeling i can’t describe that brings tears to my eyes
i try to push it down because the burning hurts and my fingers are covered in flame
but it’s never enough
and yet too much

dysphoria is a funny thing
i hold toys in place of what i miss
i push up and down trying to ignore
the pangs i feel in the chest that isn’t mine
dear god please let me finish this time
they all say hope will make the burning worse
but there isn’t much worse i can go from here
and yet it scares me all the same

i shudder once
a broken sound
it’s better than before
but not enough
and yet too much
i replaced hrt with hope and it still got the message across
Nov 2018 · 601
aromantic
ethan Nov 2018
pink comes up to me and asks who i have a crush on
i look around, picking a random boy and say “him.”
by tomorrow, everyone will know.
but i don’t actually like him.

yellow comes up to me and asks who i have a crush on
i’ve grown, matured, and yet i still look around, pick a girl from my friend group and say “her.”
by tomorrow, all my friends but her will know
but i don’t actually like her.

“her.” “him.” “them.”
“him.” “them.” “her.”
“them.” “her.” “him.”
“him.” “her. “them.”

purple comes up to me and asks who i have a crush on.
i look around
no one.
i guess my heart is green and grey.
i’ve always fought for love. it’s poetic i won’t get to truly feel it.
Aug 2018 · 279
color love
ethan Aug 2018
blue comes up to me and asks if i like yellow
i say no
blue laughs

blue comes up to me and asks me if i still like yellow
i say maybe
blue nods

blue comes up to me and asks if i still like yellow
i say yes
blue frowns

blue comes up to me and asks if she’s allowed to like yellow
i say why are you asking me
blue says i was here first

blue comes up to me and tells me that she is planning on taking yellow on a date
i tell her to have fun
blue doesn’t know i don’t like green

yellow tells me that blue is going to ask them on a date
yellow says they don’t know how feel about this
yellow asks me if they should say yes
yellow asks

i say go for it

yellow smiles

my heart beats when yellow smiles
“will you tell them?” it asks
i tell it maybe
my heart continues to beat
i thought you were yellow even before i fell in love
Aug 2018 · 879
marching band
ethan Aug 2018
you have to find the stupid reasons not to **** yourself.

for example:
i can’t **** myself because i’m in marching band and we just got our drill. it would be selfish if i left a hole in our formations.

i can’t **** myself because my dad bought me a new package of that bread i like. it would be a waste to not eat it.

i can’t **** myself because my french teacher moved a girl next to me. it would be rude if i were to leave her without a seating partner again.

i can’t **** myself because my friends and i are in a gift exchange. it would be annoying if the person i got didn’t get a gift.

i can’t **** myself because my room is messy. it would be ******* my family if i left a mess.

i can’t **** myself because i have a group project coming up. it would be unfair if i left my partners to do all the work.

i can’t **** myself because it would inconvenience others. i can’t **** my self because leaving a hole would hurt their productivity. i can’t **** myself because me dying would mean that i never got to see the end of my favorite books, i never got to see my favorite tv shows, i never got to finish my favorite poems.

i can’t **** myself because i’m in marching band. if i do, i’ll leave a hole.
i don’t know if this is positive anymore
Aug 2018 · 7.4k
closeted
ethan Aug 2018
when i was a freshman one of my friends told me that there was a girl who was talking about me
asking why i was pretending to be straight and that everyone could tell that i was gay
my friends and i laughed it off like children and i quipped “i’m not pretending anything, just ask anyone and they’ll know”

now, i think of the rainbow socks, the only thing i own with a rainbow on it, being shoved down to the bottom of my sock drawer as if it would pop out at any minute and proclaim it’s existence if it were any higher. now, i think of the rainbow highlight that i applies in the bathroom at midnight, pausing every now and again to make sure i was alone. Now, i think of the pride nail art that i scrubbed off my nails minutes after i painted it on. now, i think of the last word in a poem that i wrote and turned in, scared i was being too obvious with the word they.

now, i think of the horrible creature sitting in my chest that simultaneously begs to never tell my secrets and to also scream them from the roof tops. i think of the sludge that lives in me and climbs up my throat, whispering safety into my ear while also ripping apart everything it touches. i think of the pain i feel whenever i say that i’m gay, because it makes things easier if the works sees me as a girl who loves other girls.

before thinking of this poem i had sat back and wondered how many bottles it would take of the various prescription medicines that my parents kept in the kitchen cabinet to **** me. when i remembered the name they would put on the tombstone i stopped and walked away. i remember the time where i couldn’t walk away and i had reached in and grabbed a full bottle of ibuprofen and i took a single one, hoping that my screaming head could be sated by the feeling of a single pill crawling down my throat.

i had a dream last night about someone called addison.
they looked me in the eyes and before i even knew what they looked like their physical form flickered until they were a bright shining star in a vaguely human form.

they sat next to me as we floated in a void on a picnic blanket and they put their arm around my shoulder which felt like a hug from someone i used to know but had forgotten
i stared at their glasses that looked too much like mine as they flickered in and out of existence and they told me i was not where i was supposed to be.

i didnt ask them where but they heard it anyways as if breaking into my thoughts. they answered that they could not tell me and when i thought why they said they didn’t want to spoil the fun of a brighter future for them and me.

i woke up with the taste of lavender on my tongue and the desire to change my name.
i’m not sure who i want to be
Mar 2017 · 962
Yellow Rose
ethan Mar 2017
I had always thought
That out of all the
Colors
In the world
Yellow was the worst
The embodiment of
Cowardice
Betrayal
The bright color burned at my eyes
But
My darling
As we stand in the dark
And you tuck a
Yellow rose
Behind my ear
I think
Maybe
Yellow
Isn't so bad
After all
My dear

I used to believe
That
Yellow
Was the most
Beautiful
Color
The embodiment of
The sun
Your soul
And the golden roses
That sat upon our table
Waiting for me after a long day
From you
The bright color kissed at my eyes
But
My darling
As we stand in the light
Those roses darken
And wilt
As our love grows old
And brown
Instead of the yellow
I think
Maybe
Yellow
Isn't good
After all
My dear

Now I sit here
Knowing the truth
Yellow isn't
Good
Or
Bad
It's a color
And the memories
Behind it
Make it what it is
But
My darling
I cannot decide
Whether I
Hate
Or
Love
The color
For it was the color of
Forgotten love
The color of
Fights and dark days
The color of
Betrayal
But yet
I cannot bring myself to hate it
For it is still
The color
Of the roses
That you lay
Upon my gravestone
Every year
My dearest
My darling
My love

— The End —