the closet gets crampedi was blessed with
parents who never shaded
me from anything
rainbow colored with a limp wrist.
i was never told that gay
was wrong and needed to be
removed like a cancer patient's tumor.
yet i could never shake the feeling of
knowing i must hide it,
swallow it whole inside me till
there's nothing left and no one -
not a soul -
would ever accuse me of
longing for the touch of a woman.
i relished young exploration with
a friend who's long forgotten me.
eight years old, pretending to kiss boys
we'd only ever have in our minds.
soon enough, i stopped pretending and
began enjoying her lips against mine.
i quickly forced that down.
it was too gay.
to assimilate, i taught myself to be
boy crazy at a stupidly young age.
they were tools, the majority.
all meant to prevent being ostracized,
becoming the other for
something i didn't even understand yet.
i told myself that the
more boy crazy i was,
the safer i was.
tactics advance as we mature.
i traded crushes
ChemistryIt's all chemicals, like Breaking Bad
But the lab is you, just chain reactions
Hormones and Pheromones, what decide the actions
Dopamine and Endorphins, bonds created, it's Oxytocin
And I need more Nicotine to get rid if the memories
Jump, do it for Adrenaline, I wanna feel the ecstasy
Abusing the Caffeine, not taking my Vitamins
Subscribe me some Medicine, cause Alcohol
Seems to work no more, forget the Aspirin
Morphine, Morphine, I can't take no more
Have you ever smelled Chloroform? I once sniffed Acetone
That's childish, so instead, bring out the Cannabis
It's not enough, get Meth, Cocaine, maybe some Heroin?
I've heard that Ketamine is the new Amphetamine
My brain's on Steroids, perhaps more Sedatives?
Could it be that LSD is what's right for me
No it's not, I still hate how I feel
So Cyanide or some Lead or Mercury
Was I allergic to Arsenic? I'm not feeling the kick
Oh god, I feel sick. But the pain is gone
There's only light at the end of the tunnel
as I finally see there were n
A beautiful moment
It was a long day at work, but it was finally over. I felt tired and worn, and I was hating my job. All of it faded when I saw her sitting there, waiting for me. A 1967 Mercury Cougar XR7. The sleek muscular curve of her flanks, with ancient GoodYear Eagle GT's that should have been retired long ago filling her fenderwells underneath. Their sides are checked and rotted, the tread is gone; they're little more than hard rubber slicks now. But none of that matters, as I get into the driver's seat. It's stifling hot outside, but the building I wasted eight hours of my life away in was ice cold air conditioned climate controlled hell. The heat soaks through me and warms my soul, while the dusty smell of ancient carpet and sun-faded leather mingle in my nose like the scent of a lover.
I turn the key, and with a ragged cough, she springs to life. Like an old smoker; her voice is coarse,