You missed me
Or maybe you missed her
And I was the ersatz replacement
Or maybe you missed something
You'd never even had before
And we were the vessels of your journey
Maybe you missed yourself
The person you closeted away inside
And we were false idols to be worshiped
In order to distract you from You
Showing posts with label SEXUALITY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SEXUALITY. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Thursday, December 8, 2016
The Bat
Creature of the night
I like you cannot see the light
I am comfortable in this darkness
Eating morsels of my sins
Upside down in my own identity
I slept for so long and like you
I have awoken without a dawn
And flown into the darkness
I like you cannot see the light
I am comfortable in this darkness
Eating morsels of my sins
Upside down in my own identity
I slept for so long and like you
I have awoken without a dawn
And flown into the darkness
Monday, November 23, 2015
Mazes
(11/18/2015)
Why is coming out such a process?
An unending, continuous process?
One that never seems to get easier no matter how much practice you've had or how many times you've done it?
I'm sorta in the closet. Sorta not in the closet. To some people I'm out. To others I'm closeted. Feels like lying by omission. Feels shitty…
But there's so many barriers (not even including fear) to knock down to get out of the closet. Saying "in the closet" implies there is only one door, without a lock, to be opened. Then you step out and it's just that simple. But it's so not like that at all. It's many doors that are often locked. You find yourself crawling out windows you stumbled across in the maze. You learn to be an expert lock pick. You draw maps in your mind with explicit protocols on how to escape.
It's uncomfortable. It's like being stuck in chrysalis. You know you've transformed into something better, but how do you get out? Where is the seam? Where is the weak point through which you'll force yourself? Force… That's exactly what it is. You push and prod but rarely do you cajole. I can't seem to be that tender or nurturing with myself. I am too preoccupied with remembering my map and how to pick locks…
Why is coming out such a process?
An unending, continuous process?
One that never seems to get easier no matter how much practice you've had or how many times you've done it?
I'm sorta in the closet. Sorta not in the closet. To some people I'm out. To others I'm closeted. Feels like lying by omission. Feels shitty…
But there's so many barriers (not even including fear) to knock down to get out of the closet. Saying "in the closet" implies there is only one door, without a lock, to be opened. Then you step out and it's just that simple. But it's so not like that at all. It's many doors that are often locked. You find yourself crawling out windows you stumbled across in the maze. You learn to be an expert lock pick. You draw maps in your mind with explicit protocols on how to escape.
It's uncomfortable. It's like being stuck in chrysalis. You know you've transformed into something better, but how do you get out? Where is the seam? Where is the weak point through which you'll force yourself? Force… That's exactly what it is. You push and prod but rarely do you cajole. I can't seem to be that tender or nurturing with myself. I am too preoccupied with remembering my map and how to pick locks…
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
It Doesn't Matter That You're Gay
One day, you will die and nothing will ever matter
Not your differences,
Not your preferences,
Not your happiness.
Forget your allies and your enemies.
Forget your rainbow suspenders, your glitter eyeliner, your chest binder.
You are not your gender
Not your sexuality
Not your sins
Not your injustices.
You are not your label.
You are not your experiences.
One day, nothing will ever matter.
--------------
Inspired by my brother's poem penned on the inside his medicine cabinet in orange magic marker, apparently inspired by Fight Club.
NOTE: after some reader's responses, I want to add that, to me, this poem is comforting rather than angsty. The idea that it wont matter anymore one day, none of it, is so unbelievably peaceful to me. I hope you find the same comfort one day. Embrace Inevitability but never rush her.
Not your differences,
Not your preferences,
Not your happiness.
Forget your allies and your enemies.
Forget your rainbow suspenders, your glitter eyeliner, your chest binder.
You are not your gender
Not your sexuality
Not your sins
Not your injustices.
You are not your label.
You are not your experiences.
One day, nothing will ever matter.
--------------
Inspired by my brother's poem penned on the inside his medicine cabinet in orange magic marker, apparently inspired by Fight Club.
NOTE: after some reader's responses, I want to add that, to me, this poem is comforting rather than angsty. The idea that it wont matter anymore one day, none of it, is so unbelievably peaceful to me. I hope you find the same comfort one day. Embrace Inevitability but never rush her.
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