i want to be smaller.
tiny, tinier, tiniest.

i want to be so small, that
i fit into a jar, and
can hide in the walls of
houses i never called
home,

maybe if i cut out some
stuffing, i will be satisfied.

my back
will slump forward and you
will see my spine, but i
will be smaller,
less open,
less
there..
.

and i will cease to exist,,,
almost
an empty shell of skin and
zipper, collapsed on the
floor, maybe my lungs will still
breathe.:

die, died, will die.
i want to be dead.

The doctor asks me why I'm here
That's a little open ended, isn't it?
I wish I were as quick, but I think
Too long and explain my case in full
Without any embellishment, I came
Because my back hurts like a mother
Pushing, can't move my leg and now
Painfully both enter and exit bed He
Nods as if he knows, he wants to know
The extensive list of all my meds, three
One, that gets me to the cold side of balance
One, that redistributes fat, hips and *******
One, that bottlenecks testosterone tighter
Than either full ***. Gender reassignment?
He asks so I say yep. Duck Dynasty is on the
TV, in the corner above the room. The papers
Want to know if I'm claustrophobic, I check no.
That is before my first MRI. Before I'm loaded
Feet first. Now I know myself better, too.
The room is hot as he shares the results, bald
Headed sweat drips down a muscular man
Shy of forty, you've ruptured your disks. Three.
One on top of one on top of another. I guess
That in the end I just got too fat, that any extra
Burden collapsed my spine. I swear I do my best,
Avoid any extra psychological stress, but right
Now everyone is dying

This twisted spine collapsed down on the world with vengence.

Its crooked maw could not decipher the slithering tongues of monolithic men.

I tore away at my flesh until she returned, beaded eyes white hot with fiendish intentions.

Sparatic jestures have been no strangers here, at this abode we endure, witnessing the violence.

It's little things,
Like your eyes,
And your laugh,
The bubbles at your feet,
During a bath,
The curve of your spine,
And the whole of your lips.
It's little things
that make me want to fall in love
like this.

read my body like a bible,
let your tongue be the bookmark
that browses my pages,
and embeds between my spine
right where it shouldn't;
say my name like a prayer,
and i'll worship the shrine
under your stomach
like a god— my god!
let me lick the statuette

his figure standing in the bed room doorway
in such excitement clutching the covers
passing the moonlit window of silver light
that picked up every detail of his bare skin
putting his finger to your lips
whispering "Shhh don't say a word"
climbing in bed pressing his body against yours
sending shivers down your spine
then you woke with a huge smile
his  text then came through....
""I'm always thinking about you""
K--I--S--S--E--S

I’ve lost more than I’d wish
to lose
and learned more than
I’d like to.

This is what happens
when kids
grow up.

I am a product
of a broken boy
becoming a
measly man
in a
wallowed world
that has no room for

generosity.

The world will not end
with a spark
to the neck or a
chill
on the spine.

The world will not
die silently into
a night that
no good man
can bare.

The world will end
when the
human race
allows greed
to conquer
grace.

And my friends,

we are
well on our
way.

I like the curves of your shoulders and the strength in your spine.
I like the softness in your lips but the roughness in your hands.
I like the sparkle in your eyes and the sarcasm in your smile.

I like the pieces of you that you hide away under layers of thick skin.
The sadness you try to hide when you bite your lip and look left.
The laughter you feel when you shake your head and glance down.
The irritations you know when you roll your eyes up and to the right.

I like those things more than you'll ever know. But the things I love about you could never be explained in poetry.