Emptiness is universal
My “thing” is I panic with my hands on the wheel
and then try to tell you about it
before I fall asleep and it just becomes
There are probably a thousand
paper bags in various landfills that
still contain my breath
I’m alive between breaths and off ramps
This is all standard procedure
I’m unstoppable as long as I think I am dying
Being alive is an expression of love
I’m not just saving face
or pretending to listen
but my attention span is
Will you love me anyway?
Is it possible for me to tell you how I survived
without coming across
as a self aggrandizing waste?
Today I saw the ocean
and I wasn’t afraid of what it might do
I just kept riding by, occasionally glancing
in its direction, trying to keep
I swell, crash, laugh
I’m only as vain as light to water
I’m a terrible son and an alright daughter
My head never learned
to shut the fuck up
Always trying to fill what can’t be
let me take you through a day-
my bed is a swing set
in the playground of the sun
that doesn’t mean anything, i just made it up
i make up my face
i make up my room
i make up excuses about why i can’t leave it
i crack my neck and put off calling you
because i don’t have much to say
if i were with you right now i wouldn’t have to say anything
i would sink into the couch with you
and move my fingers along the back of your shoulder
fuck writing more poems
fuck being too sad to move
i keep my heart somewhere along the freeway
that i take to get to you
i spend a lot of time fantasizing about sprouting wings
and making my car obsolete
i bet if i landed on your balcony you would just smile
and open the sliding glass door
i bet both of our smiles would be free of whatever
we spent the day hiding behind them
on national coming out day i was afraid
to go to the grocery store alone.
fuck your bravery.
i smiled through lipstick and walked back
to the car with my head over my shoulder.
is my life worth a feel-good huffpo headline?
god loves you god loves you god loves you.
i’m glad you’re finally embracing sylvia rivera.
i went to pride and drank a 10 dollar bud light.
everyone was gay as in gay and gay as in happy
because they had money and had successfully
become part of the mechanism that grinds
all the other queers into powder.
i say again, fuck your bravery.
hey, do you want to grab my hand?
do you want to use it
to stroke your liberal sensibilities?
what will you think of me as after you’re finished?
did you know if i came out to my family
i would no longer have one?
am i less brave?
i think existence is brave.
i think that’s all i need.