sometimes i wish i liked alcohol so i could go numb and drunk text you at 3 AM that i still love you

I hate myself at least 20 times a day
For being unable to make you stay.
It's my fault, I pushed you away.

You spoke to me again today,
Filled me with regret that I let myself sway.
It wasn't a game I knew how to play!
When did love become so hard anyway?

For another chance, to God I pray,
And any price I'm willing to pay.

I'm sorry that from you I went astray,
Then returned and at your feet myself I did lay.
I made our skies dark and gray;
The bonds between us began to fray.

I'm so sorry for the mess I must say,
But to me again you've found your way.

I just hope this time we both stay...

i'm thinking about you again and my chest feels hollow.
i keep making jokes to try and make myself feel better, but i'm making it worse.
i want to text you and tell you that i miss you but i can't find the will power.
i wonder what you're doing right now and if you miss me as much as i miss you.

it's sunday night and i'm latched onto my body pillow, crying in the dark, pretending it's you that i'm lying my head on instead of a cloth full of cotton.
i think of how i'll dress really cute tomorrow in hopes that it will make you look at me and think "wow, i can't believe i let her go."
but you won't look at me.
it won't make you think anything.
you won't care.
and i need to let go.
but i can't.
not with this sliver of hope.

Homophobia is not funny.

Care to hear what is?

The wrenching fear boring holes in your best friend’s once bright eyes
every Thursday afternoon, when she must enter a changing room filled with hostile glares

The violent purple bruise re-emerging beneath your brother’s left eye
the same bruise he told your mother about three weeks ago
that he’d “gotten in a rugby accident”

The gnawing feeling of loneliness in your classmate’s stomach as she lies in an otherwise empty bed
no longer able to hold her girlfriend’s hand in public
following a run-in with her mother at the supermarket

The boy next door who can’t bring himself to leave his bed
Immobilized with anxiety and wrapped up in the sheets
(it’s been six days, nine hours, and forty-two minutes since he told his best friend.)

The young woman who serves you your coffee on Saturdays
living on less than minimum wage for three years now
Since her mother left her to the streets

The kind boy you used to date, he’s been single for years
Caught and confused between miserable safety
and endless happiness

- - -


I lied before.
Not an ounce of wit lies within these words.
This is simply
an open letter to homophobes:

Find some ******* ******* originality for your jokes.

remember when i wrote poems about how much i love you,
i still do.