By the time I smoked down to the filter, I’d re-written my suicide note.
30th revision!
It’s my magnum opus.
Been working on it since I was ten.
Eleven? I didn’t believe in god.
They called me a heathen.
At twelve, even.
They called me queer.
They weren’t wrong.
But that didn’t make them right.

The first time I heard the word
Lesbian
I was 8 years old and
They came from lips I'd just kissed.

I thought it was swearing,
That if her mother
Had heard her say it
she would be grounded for a week.

When it sits in my mouth,
It still feels heavy,
And my stomach churns the way it did
When I skipped class.

I'm not the only one who,
Growing up,
Thought sexuality was insulting,
And struggled to find myself there.

But I still feel lost,
And sometimes I'm convinced that
The words I think are the worst
Are the ones which fit best.

hey, you say
he smiles and you
light up
he throws his arm around you
and replies, hey, bud
you want to cry and trace his lips
and make him
mutter your name
while you have
your tongue in his mouth
you want to touch him,
trace the map of your heart
all over his skin
but he can't know
he won't know
if only he knew you'd be dead meat
with ****** carved on your skin

she grins at you
and loops her arm through yours
and shows you her bra
does this dress make me look fat
and you wish you could say
you're beautiful
and touch her back as you
slide the dress down her sides
but she chuckles and says
i think that boy is cute
why won't he ask me out
and you know
she can never know
she won't ever know
if you ever touch her
she'll push you away
yell, ew, a ****

you're oh so pretentious
you, such little poser
you've only ever been with guys
you don't know what it's like
to be with a lady
what a grand faker
you're so not special
shut the **** up

you're being ridiculous
don't you like ***
well you've never had it
find someone to put you in bed
I promise you'll like it
the best time you've ever had
now don't be a freak

here's something unheard
not in *** ed
and not at home
who sleeps with whom
is a business of their own

When I was a child, I had a problem.
I knew, with the naked knowing of youth,
I was queer, and would be all my life.

I also knew not to tell anyone.
Who would want to hear this?
Silence said: “Be silent.

Your desperation’s your own.”
I kept quiet, as best I could,
and walked quietly out of childhood.

I knew I didn't fit.
I knew from my expression,
and I knew from theirs.
I knew from the "she, her" and "him, he"
I knew from mirrors,
I knew from signs on bathrooms.

I knew when "woman" couldn't mean "man".
I knew from the stares, the questions;
I knew when they called me "boy",
but soon apologized.
I knew something was different,
I knew something was wrong,
I didn't know it was me.

I knew it would hurt.
I knew it would hurt you.
Your little girl, your one and only,
She isn't dead;
He's still here.

A world of fragile things,
where love and dreams and darkness all collide.
Even though this fragile world is tearing apart,
taunted by the shadows, I lie inside myself for hours.

Lost whispers
awaken within me,
like a lullaby,
burning deep inside of me:

"Closing your eyes to disappear,
so afraid to open your eyes.
Safe in the dark, how can you see?
Open your eyes to the light."

She beckons me,
The Goddess of Imaginary Light.
Arms outstretched, awaiting me,
high above the world below,
Shall I give in?

Frozen in my place,
safe inside myself,
I'm still a slave to these dreams.
Why must we fall apart to understand how to fly?
Maybe this time we can leave our broken world behind.

Look past the end, it's a dream.
All just a dream in the end.

The Siren's song swimming into my ears,
sweetly against the harsh instrumental.
The angelic vocals flood all who hear;
a love of a melody so gentle.

Hair long and dark as the lyrics she sings,
eyes a bold green and skin a soft, pale tone.
A Goddess of elegance beauty brings,
whose talent does her no justice alone.

But nurture does as it will always do:
A son born from such grandeur; a Lion.
The immaculate voice is all but through;
A respite of lull sulks from the scion.

The achievements of song left in her wake;
I'll wait evermore, as long as it takes.

I find myself staring
right into the abyss
day after day,
yet sunlight still burns my eyes.

Cars and gasoline and traffic,
Weddings, birthdays, and funerals,
The days, the months, the years.
Failures, mistakes,
Accomplishments, burden.
Life wears thin
as time gains substance.

Lifespans measured through the good and the bad days,
All a distant memory in the end.