Tag: writing

3:34 am

lay with me

just this once.

just this one time.

just.

lay.

hold me close,

as though i’m slipping away

as quickly as i feel i am.

hold me close,

so my body has some sort of warmth.

hold me close,

just so i can feel you pressed against me.

just so i can feel your heartbeat

against mine,

feel your fingers

trace delicate patterns on my back,

breathe my lungs

full of your smell,

full of your love,

and exhale mine against your neck.

hold me close,

brush through my hair,

hold me close,

pull me close,

hold me,

breathe me,

love me close.

don’t speak.

let me enjoy this without regret.

look into my eyes,

smile softly,

tell me i’m the most wonderful boy you’ve ever seen.

tell me i’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.

tell me i’m the best person you’ve ever seen.

brush my hair out of my face,

drape your arm over my shoulder,

being my face closer,

closer,

where did you go?

unrequited

i told you that i loved you

said you didn’t feel the same.

my soul, it left my body,

no words left in this brain,

my heart told me it’s over,

and the sobs, they overcame.

the moon saw me once more

pleading desperately to the stars,

wishing, hoping, for one more day

where you were more than just a scar.

the next day came, the sun, she rose.

my tears have stopped, supposedly so.

i wish i was yours, but that i’ve shared.

i’d much rather be friends than you not be there.

cosmos

your hand brushed mine

and it stopped the time and space

that you created.

you hung the stars and sent glimmers

to the fireflies that reflect in your eyes.

you dropped the sun and raised the moon,

day in, day out,

each day a new day

for me to long for your hand

in mine,

our lips,

intertwined,

the world to stop spinning,

for time to stop moving,

and let me melt with you,

mixing our energies,

our emotions,

our hands and feet and arms and legs

until there’s no other choice

but to let the lack of gravity take its course

and float into space,

holding each other.

i love you cosmically,

i love you universally,

i would build galaxies for you,

take you among the stars,

love you among the comets,

live within the boundaries of absolute,

absolute infinity.

miles and miles and lightyears and lightyears

for us to explore

together.

i don’t want to see the stars if it isn’t with you.

you hung them for earth,

but mine hang for you.

completely indulgent crowley pov poem

fire.

engulfing.

books burning,

left,

right,

up,

down,

all around me.

chopin plays on the turntable to my left,

perfect unity,

though the distortion

melts through the vinyl

like the pain of losing

my best friend

melts through the cold,

broken heart

that rests within me.

he was my better half

was.

the damned–

the damned.

i was damned,

doomed to fall,

fell miles and miles through heaven into hell,

banished,

now he, too,

damned.

damned to heaven,

his personal hell,

a place where i could never return.

god herself

cast me away,

cast me down,

down into the 7 layer dip that burns your tongue

and doesn’t go well with anything.

he’s damned.

i’m damned.

we’re damned together,

on opposite ends of damnation.

exhaustion

the world is

well

falling apart.

i’m 19 years old

and i will be cleaning this

fucking shit

up

for the rest of my life.

i will be righting the wrongs

of so

many

people;

of a whole generation,

maybe two.

this is too much

for this young body

to handle.

my soul is young,

though it has always felt old.

my soul is young,

though it is aging centuries

when i turn on the news.

rewriting history has NEVER been a good thing.

look at any science fiction story-

the future is disaster.

i want to travel to the stars,

take home in a galaxy

light years

away from earth.

away from this hell

that has been unleashed.

away from the racism

the sexism

the lgbtq+ phobia

the god damned ability

to be a rapist

and get away with a high five.

where the immigrants

are trespassing.

where women

are not in control of their bodies.

where the poor

get shunned.

where the

only

accepted

and

praised

group,

is a rich, straight, white, man

in a world where

people of color

women

the poor

the lgbtq+ community,

are just as able

to be powerful.

to be respected.

to be allowed to breathe and live

without fear.

i am tired of this country.

i am tired of this world.

we need a new beginning,

we’re one step from being torn.

16 hours

can you come down and stay with me?

i’m 16 hours away, but i feel like i’m still home.

i’m sharing a room with my family,

a bed with my sister,

and it’s driving me absolutely

up

the

walls.

i want to be alone.

i need to be alone.

but your company is needed too.

you’re so close to me

that it doesn’t matter if i share a room with you

or a bed

because you understand personal space

and me

and i need that

i need you.

thank you for being that way,

the way that i can’t really verbalize.

letting me feel alone in your company,

but not in a toxic way,

in a normal

loving way.

1:16

dear,

if only you knew the words i want to say to you. i think, maybe, you’d understand better. maybe, hopefully, it would help you see yourself in the light that i see you in.

so,

if i happen to fuck up and accidentally link you to this account before telling you, real you, that i’m in love with you, i hope you enjoy this. please don’t laugh. or bring it up. (unless you, too, happen to be in love with me).

you’re beautiful. but everyone says that to their lover. so i won’t. bill said it the best, “shall i compare thee to a summer’s day?”. he gets me.

you’re sunshine.

i hate the heat, but you make it bearable. your warm rays pull me into your embrace, and it’s so hot that it burns, but i don’t notice it until later. until my skin is scorched red because i got too close. it’s sort of like a punishment; i got too close to something i can’t have. as the impact, i don’t notice it until i’m alone, until i’m cold, and you’re not here.

you’re rain.

i adore rain. i adore you. you settle in around me, linger until you can’t take it anymore. and you release. you wash over me, you cleanse me, you dampen my clothes, drip dye from my scalp down my skin. but then, at the snap of a hand, you could destroy. you could kill. i don’t see you like that, though. because after everything you do, a rainbow follows behind.

there are so many more analogies i can compare you with, so many more seasons and weather patterns and astronomical features. but i won’t. because, no matter how hard i try, nothing will compare to you. you’re beyond description, beyond predication, everything about you is radiant.

l’appel du vide

i’m on the rooftop of a skyscraper.

the wind is howling from up here,

though to the city below me,

there isn’t breeze enough to startle a napkin.

i’ve always loved it up here.

from this high, you can see everything

but all i see is you.

i don’t know where you are in this world

but i feel you all around me;

you’re pumping the blood in my veins,

pushing fear in and out of my brain,

shaking my hands,

liquidizing my legs,

unleashing hoards of butterflies in my stomach.

you’re the blue mountains in the distance,

the pink in the sky,

the cotton candy clouds

that are filled with unshed tears.

you’re the streetlights down below,

the smell of coffee from the cafe on 3rd,

the smell of gasoline on 15th.

but most of all,

you’re the wind,

you’re talking to me,

you’re singing to me,

it’s beautiful,

you’re beautiful,

you’re chilly in all the best ways,

the best ways,

you’re all i see,

all i care for,

you’re everything,

you’re everywhere,

you’re surrounding me,

you’re going to catch me,

you’re surrounding me,

you promised you’ll catch me,

i’m falling

i’m falling

i’m falling

i’m falling.

june 30, 2019

pride month is coming to its close once more. i am a proud, loving, accepting member of this community, and each year those emotions grow stronger. this year, i finally went to my first pride. i was scheduled to march in the parade, but i got too anxious about that to try to. i still went to the festival part, though, and walked the streets with my two friends. we went to a taco shop and a bakery, both of which were very loving and accepting of the lgbtq+ community. this year felt remarkably different, though, and maybe it’s because i’m out, fully, now. but i feel like it is more because i understand more now. being proud and accepting is one thing, but being part of the community and proud and accepting while walking the rainbow painted streets with flags flying, drag queens getting ready and stopping your friend to correctly guess their zodiac sign, seeing people, YOUR people, people like you, holding hands and kissing in the streets or in front of the courthouse as though that is the norm…that is incredible. in this world we are brought up where straight is the only right way and there are only two genders, but when you don’t identify with heterosexuality OR a binary gender, you’re raised thinking that you’re wrong, that your mere existence isn’t right, isn’t supposed to even exist. there’s nothing wrong with being straight or cis, fuck, man, if you’re straight and cis, good for you. contrarily, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being anything and everything but straight and cis. we are all just people. we need to love and accept each other. please.

so as this pride month comes to a close, i just wish for one thing: acceptance. the picture attached isn’t even from my pride going, it is from tonight when i wiped off my makeup that i did for a photo. but that wash cloth is seen by so many people. they wipe off their true self to board the train home, to drive back to their family after they snuck out to pride, to hide who they are just so they can stay alive one more day. so they can stay alive in hopes that one day, they won’t have to wipe their self away, or stuff their flags in their bag, or dress as the gender assigned at birth. they, and i, hope for a future in which we can all be exactly who we are, without fear, without shame, without guilt, and without the burden of not being “normal”, because we are “normal”, we are human.

a quick goodbye

sometimes i wonder what it would have been like if our goodbye hadn't gone so quick.
it felt like a long time coming, 
like a pot trying to boil on low heat.
but i was too heart-eyed to notice.

we were young, 
i don't regret it.
i don't regret you.
you were somehow the best and worst thing to happen to me.

i still ache,
knowing the girl in my heart
had someone else in her's.
but it's okay,
because you're happy with him now.

i do regret not being able to drive, though.
i can't go to the lake and not think of you, 
even though we only went with my parents.

the good thing, hopefully,
is that it isn't so much you anymore, 
but the girl i'm heart-eyed for now. 

(she doesn't know)
(but you don't know her, so you can't take her too)

i do wish our goodbye could've been,
say,
an hour.
it was a couple months.
maybe from the start.
but time is relative, anyways.