Nails the length of javelins click on countertop
with the speed of a coked-up woodpecker
as this goddess of the night with bullets
of caked foundation sweating from her forehead
awaits her fifth free Long Island of the night.

Safe to say, she's a little high maintenance,
like all treasured centerpieces
of a local museum deserve to be.

She is your generation's Mona Lisa, trust.
Her sneezes will be dissected for coding.
Like the rust on buried Babylonian armor,
she lives sandwiched between myth and reality.

A Frankenstein of queer iconography,
door-knocker earrings designed by Adrian.

Stilts for heels clack on blinking dancefloor,
balancing a hermaphroditic echo
that charges through hieroglyphic binaries
with a four-on-the-floor precision.

when i was 10,
my father said,
"i'll walk the aisle when you wed. "
when i was 12,
my father unfurled,
"you're dead to me if you like girls."
when i was 14,
my father cried,
"slit those wrists, say goodbye."
when i was 15,
my father did grieve,
"pick up your bags, i need you to leave."
now at 16,
my father is silent.
my home is too far,
my wrists are still violent.
my family is none,
my bones have grown weary.
life's closing my door;
deaths locking the windows,
im trapped in a shell
of homosexual innuendos.

I wear men's 9 shoes,
and black socks underneath
Batman boxer briefs during morning shifts
And cotton boxers when I sleep
Boot-cut jeans during the winter
and capri joggers during spring
Long sleeve, and short sleeve button ups  
Are pretty much my thing.
My glasses are black, lenses thick.
My hair cut short, just recently dyed.
If I didn't have *******
You'd think I'm a guy.

i
have felt more honest touches
from straight boys
honestly telling me
i am honestly worth nothing
they treat me like a ***** magazine
they get so much pleasure
from tearing open my spine
i am a centre-fold
of ****** lips & bruised eyes
there's only so much
my staples can take
how can i feel safe,
when bricks don't build homes
but instead fly towards me
with labels like "******"
from the mouths of boys
who don't have the *****
to put on a ball gown
and throw their stilettos
at homophobic policemen
on hot summer nights
you wanna talk about fights?
i know what it's like
to french kiss
your "oh-so-british" fist
so don't talk to me
about equality
until i don't have to walk the streets at night
with my keys between my fingers
expecting the worst,
always.

When will we concede?
When all the harsh words stab
Until there is nothing left to bleed
When will you lay your hate aside?

Know yours laws before you dig your heel at me
He, the shepherd who leads you
Said to love your neighbor more than thee
Am I not your neighbor too?

Do I make you uncomfortable?
My hand clutching hers,
Better to shout at the vulnerable
Instead of evaluating your fears

Have you ever thought God loves equally?
You were taught this back in Sunday school
A small child that loved peacefully
Could ever learn to grow so cruel?

“God Hates Gays”
Sprawl it with the blood of those
Who would rather die than be another way
Cast aside, glad to dispose

Your doctrine is out of line
You spread hate like its a sport
On your way to cloud nine
You step on their backs for the added support

What of your children?
Would you rather turn your back
Truly be your child’s own villain
Or would you rather not attack?


Let your hand fall to your side
See their side of the story
Do not let this be the place your relationship died
Let this be a moment of clarity

I cannot tell you how to think
But cannot go without saying
That you are out of sync
With all of this hating

Can I ask, could you hold my hand?
If we are all children of God, prove it.
Take my hand like it does not leave a brand
Maybe you won't want to remove it