Thank you for validating
the debilitating fear
I had of losing you.

At least I know I'm not crazy.

Or at least I know I wasn't.

Am I attractive, hot, or ****?
Or just a forlorn idiot flexing
In order to join the *** scene?

I put a towel down
And set up a picnic
My head spins round
From the dirt they kick
On my meal
To make me feel
Scared and alone
With nowhere to roam
So I stay here laying in the sun
On the other side of a Gatling gun
I searched for a savior
Who's willing to say words
To me
For free
My search was fruitless
My eyes turned youthless

I grazed in the grass
As time quickly passed
After I finished my food
And was left there to brood
I became a floating satellite
That was accustomed to night
Because of my frights
That reflected all light

Now I see ants trying to feed on my crumbs
They must think I'm pretty desperately dumb
To not know they enforced my segregation
When I had naively sought validation
I waited there silently salivating
They responded by not validating
It's for that bitter reason
During my new season
I reflect my light on the approaching ants
So I may thwart their encroaching dance
My humble heart yearns
As I watch bugs burn

They wouldn't partake in my feast
So I morphed into a brutish beast
Now they're here to eat what's left
If they can survive my dragon's breath
They put out the fire in my heart
But ignited my mind
My useless humanity parts
As I focus on time
A time that keeps passing
While signs keep flashing
As burning bugs dying
Or sad satellites flying

My life was no peaceful picnic
After they noticed my sickness
And left me alone
For that is my home

When I don't need validation anymore
I search for love
Unfortunately I know what's in store
A picnic in the mud

I can't compute and become mute
When you walk by
My circuitry is fried
Because your program is an encryption
And your pulse is electromagnetic
My car dies, so does my phone, so does my home
I'm immobilized
And demoralized
By immoral ties
To temporary generators
They're validating veneraters
Ultimately unsatisfying
When you're still not buying
I'm attracted to your charge
Until there's a battery
Yet you're the cure to your lure
The EMT for your EMP

Your negative charge casts a cloud around my nucleus
But if you could be positive for a change
We could meet in the middle
And feel energy in our synergy
But as soon as I feel electricity between us
You shut me down
With your EMP
I can't get free

Criticism is validating
Your love is a choke hold
A marriage committed to my compromise
Generic mending
Each strand of bronzed chunk, represented a vow you gave me
The scissors cold and bare, cutting it away from my body
Swept into the nearest waste facility  
I was invested until the end
Dying with you was never scary
I now degrade, picking scraps off picture frame edgings
Look at us so happy
Lusted objectifying could qualify as the new I do
Well, we didn't make it to 80 not even 32
Congratulations to your selfish needs buddy
I hope you finally find you
Here take this ring, it doesn't fit me

Cockcrow harbour:
the gulls whining like tethered dogs
about rooftops
paliophobic cars and
grounded vessels..
Look:
on the hoary horizon
a glaucous strip
beguils
with backwater.
Not putting on a show
the frigid sea benumbed..
Easily,
with a tail of emerald jelly
skim a vanishing lane off that
lustrous sheet
and watch
the trailblazing mainland
scuttle.

Now,
Only scattered dreaming is possible.

In it's bachelor pad,
cradling over crinkles,
away from the meretriciosness
of validating the real by sharing it,
THE WIND
blusters off any veneer.
Here,
stale but spry,
fare your way around the inoffensive isle
to it's most shyest of harbours:
a mouth full of silver
saving it's breath.
The windows facing the sea
seem
black & white,
their wooden frames hooked to the wind,
the splattered gulls meow
your name
in a way
that's
personal.
Of course comes to mind.
The pines
are demanding a visit,
They're whispering
so you can hear them,
each as different as every snore,
these pines know
how to grow in the sand
and still reach for
the Nimbostratus with heads in unison.
The spaces
between their trunks illuminating
the blazing needles
raining down
painting the ground
familiar
to your lover's
skin texture:
Feel her closeness
from jilted borderwatchtowers
as she speads her mire
like no one's watching:
weedy and sugared
with bellflowers,
the waves in her shallow armpit
billeting a pair of white swans:
demurely they float
sometimes as pillows and sometimes
as question marks..
Go ask the seasoned locals,
they say the bones she parked
when she let her ice sheet melt
are portals
to her noble underbelly.

Hidden in the woods
reminiscent of your heart,
the red
tank-sized stone
is sealed,
but what the lighting reach cannot
the rain shall sluice apart
dumbly.
And though her hair has
come to be
the moss
black and hoarse
as sailor's beard,
there is still time.
The void says
her noisy neighbour is nothing
to die for.
The theadbear car with absent doors
incites
to drive her
in reverse gear
to the first few
days of holidays:
her golden locks a-blaze,
her arm around your
hind-sighted doppelganger.

Head shots like mug shot
selfies
Professing to the world their
desires to be seen like
gay barbie dolls

Green dots, I reply:
A collection of blue highlighted
selfies
of empty responses,
validating my
inadequacy

When I decided to accept
that I was gay and
cause a queer whirlwind into
the calm atmosphere that is my
family
I expected life to become easier

But as I venture into the world of
green dots and barbie selfies
I am reminded that
Gay
is not what stirred up
my hurricane of
Confusion
Insecurities
Inadequacies

It's all just me.

Riding in the car
with sweaty palms
playing loud,
fast songs
Getting a bit jittery
and maybe a tad bit anxious.

Wondering when it will be
that I can get High
with you next to me.

-On my way to you,
-my drug dealer
-who only deals the finest touches
-and most esquisite caresses

My vision is getting a bit blurry
and my thoughts stray from the road
to thoughts of your face
and I get that message
that I get to see you soon
so I slow down
and take that exit off the hiway
turn around
and tell you to head my way.

You get in the car
and the smiles begin
the hand touching and knee grabbing
and its a wonder
that I can still drive
in this altered state of mind.

We speak some words
about this and that
nothing too funny
yet we laugh until our sides hurt.

Im in love with you
my drug dealer,
my ultimate healer
my mind eraser.

The chemicals start flowing
and I wonder if im spoiling the moment
with scientific physioligical thoughts
validating this thing called love.

The chemicals
that start at the brain
flow through the heart
and down to the genitals
then down through the legs
and back up to the heads
(yes, both of them)
and I can’t get over
how much we feel the same way
and how
even to this day
things have not seemed to change

Hoping I don’t ever build up
too much of a tolerance
to the chemicals you make me feel
my wonderful man,
with the drugs you deal
and all the pain you ****.

I cannot sleep
Or at least I choose not to
Until the sun breaks the horizon
I wake up to a typical ringtone
But sometimes my heart hurts
Like it used to when I smoked
And after 12 hours of rest
I can still barely open my eyes
I cannot convince myself that
There's a real reason to wake up
I am so alone aside from my love
That any social interaction crashes over my body with
guilt and embarrassment that have no purpose
I swallow a few conversations but they hurt
I miss the friends I used to have but I know
We changed so much it could never be the same

And through recent interaction
I realize how much I miss my community
Surrounding myself with those who understand
My fears
My pain
My experiences
Without me having to explain it
Validating my emotions and
Reminding me that I am allowed to feel the way I do
Simply because I do