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Loves Me Not

By : March 9, 2021 Comments Off
“I like your hair.” You say to me. I shave my head that night when I go home and sweep the scraps into a plastic sandwich bag. I press it into your palm the next time you see me. (You love me) “I like your smile.” You tell me. I start with the baby tooth that didn’t have an adult tooth underneath it to grow up and push it away. I slide it across the table to you. By the time I get to my wisdom teeth, you’ve arranged my smile on the table. The barista calls your name for your coffee. “I’ll get it,” I say. The only sounds that make it out past my lips are the vowels. (You love me not) “I like your taste.”  There’s already
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Tightrope

By : February 7, 2021 Comments Off
She loved me because I walked a tightrope. Always quaking on tipping tiptoes, ignoring the crowd below until she climbed up. I said get me down from here. Silver scissors sparkled. Her face was the last thing I saw as I  plummeted Down.
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Mood Rings

By : February 7, 2021 Comments Off
I said I was going to write more about how her eyes are like mood ringsEyes like mood rings and I’m the only one who can decode themBlue when she’s calm, happy, contentGreen when she’s calm, happy, contentShit, that’s not rightI’d have to ask…but still,Sometimes they’re hazelOther times blue like the raffle ticket scrunched up in my pocket from the county fairLooking to see what NFL players kneelI wonder if the networks are going to stop panning on the players if they kneelCensorshipYou see, when you live in a predominately military area and you’re watching a game on TV at a bar, at the end of the national anthem, some people clap…Uh, you’re not at the game, nor did you stand up so SIR, PLEASE SIT THE FUCK DOWN.Anyway, her
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9 Minute Poem

By : February 7, 2021 Comments Off
When you have a panic attack they say to try a grounding technique Name 5 things you can see Name 4 things you can touch Name 3 things you can hear Name 2 things you can smell Name 1 thing you can taste Breathe in  Hold it Hold it  Hold it Let it out Let me smash this bottle against a wall the wall you pushed me into the night you tore off my underwear as if you were running from the cops I can’t believe I got into a fight with her about you When I invited you in I wasn’t inviting you in. Listen to music, drink a beer,  lose to me in pong… This night was supposed to be like every other night. Was it my boxer
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Seven Days

By : February 3, 2021 01 Comment
Monday came around and you were still gone Tuesday’s here, I don’t think that I can carry on It’s the middle of the week, so it’s almost over But once Thursday comes, I’ll lose my composure It’s finally Friday, much like any other day Saturday hits, your mark won’t fade away It’s now Sunday and the cycle continues I’m empty With memories to write about All to try to make myself forgive you.
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Poems to Heal from Queer Trauma

By : January 8, 2021 Comments Off
After coming out and leaving behind a terrible past of five years in electroshock, ex-gay therapy, I found a cathartic release in writing. I wrote my way through any time I had flashbacks of my traumatic experiences with the homophobia we know comes with religion. A few years into my writing journey I had processed the deepest of my pain, from my rage at the bible college who tortured me and then kicked me out and abandoned me, to the sorrow and deep hatred I had for not being good enough. The writing that I poured out saved me.I compiled my writing into a collection of poetry, Dear God I’m a Faggot (2019), and for every copy sold, I have donated 1$ to The Trevor Project, the 24/7 suicide lifeline
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