dirtmanjam

if I ain't dead already

[dirtmanjam]

I still feel the dirt on my hands

I can still feel how they messed with my mind.

[dirtmanjam]

you don't have to watch this all the way through.

my dad never taught me how to shave.

my mom taught me to bleach my mustache.

my brothers let me be.

I have cobbled together manhood from scenes and clips and songs.

I have scraped and clawed and died to be seen as masculine.

so. why would I be blue?

blue is boy, but blue is delicate.

blue is not white. blue is something else.

blue is meditative. cover up what I am with something I could be.

every time I decide to be something different.

but every time, that thing is blue.

but what does that mean?

I suppose it has just as much meaning as anything else.

we see so many things and feel still more and decide that that is blue too.

I suppose blue is the same way that boy is.

but why cant a boy, a blue boy, glitter and blush and sparkle?

I don't know what a blue boy is. but it doesn't sound important.

I'm glad we made it.

[svdcvnt]

Everything I’ve Ever Let Go Of Has Claw Marks On It

[nymphfrill]

[dirtmanjam]

a shambling corpse man makes his way through the trees

shuffling quickly lest it lose itself

alone in the world and unnoticed

it knows not hunger or sleep or thirst

it knows blindly

it hopes finally for a friend

moving like a scurrying bug across the streets and the sidewalks

is it crying or breathing or smelling the wind?

what was it like to be absent of stench and full of warmth?

like a baby. clean and soft and new

catch that memory in the wind, wretched creature

it's okay. I still love you

[sinatraaloof]

Yukio Mishima as Saint Sebastian.

[dirtmanjam]

my blood my veins my matter entirely

ravaged, torn, and consumed

my memory hashed half to death

my bones are all that is left, but

no one wants to deal with the leftovers.

as in death, as in life,

a burden.

I can only hope I may be of some use

[dirtmanjam]

starlight beloved

in my youth I dreamt,

that a golden starlight beloved would happen upon me,

and in the bleak light of all that exists,

rest upon me,

and find comfort on my wretched frame.

is this the blessing I so craved?

my love which has slowly appeared to me,

dogged me in my every moment,

and nestled in every crevice of my soul.

how should I be so lucky?

that my eyes were pointed at the stars and saw them,

that my eyes would clear when admiring delicate and tangible beauty of what I saw,

that my ears work would be heightened to drink up every bit of your gospel

that gods loveliest creature

allows themselves to be loved by me

devotion is the only responce

in the cover of moon I praise you,

sleepless and content

[disease]

JESTERS GENDER GAME AUSTN FISCHER | SERIES, 2023

[dirtmanjam]

clay once wet and soft and mobile

cracks along the edges of my eyes

which bubble up with tears due to the sensation

use me which you have created

I hope you get your art!

I hope you feel inspired!

I hope that I was not a waste

I hope you don't regret me

don't crush me in to a fine powder,

turn me into paste!

I hope I get to see the people gawking at my face!

I dream of a day to come when you finally give me praise!

I look just like you wanted me to.

why do you hate me

[dirtmanjam]

I should be crying

the love has not left

time just changed

now I see the veins in our skins

and I no longer believe in fate

but as long as I can sometimes place my hands

upon smiling cheeks

I'll know that every time I cried

was just plain release

how can one person

contain all the beauty I have witnessed?

without it spilling, pouring over,

bearing open, wounds with fresh stitches

[dirtmanjam]

jawbone

the cracking and the crying and the bleeding

pressure comes in creeping through the walls I've built so high and strong

wavering in my bunkhouse, a coward lived too long

I loved every moment of the pain until it had seeped in so far,

left alone with no resistance

I was broken ajar,

now my wail makes no sound

because my vocal chords are severed,

the eyes that pop and the teeth that gnash are ground

please look at my pretty broken skull,

it is the only way that I can be small

[dirtmanjam]

the brine of silence

the stewing of a man left in anger and loneliness

lesser men have hurt others from their hurt

greater men have created from it

but as for me, of course,

I will rot

alone in my flesh

which bunches and stretches in evil ways,

thick and ashen,

no caress to this canvas

I have lived without

[dirtmanjam]

good intentions are the soft center to a poison pill. I worry.

[dirtmanjam]

I wish I could be beautiful

if you must take me,

let me be broken by your blade,

so my back may brush at your chest,

the closest we may ever get

I just hope you are sadistic enough to enjoy it.

why do I worry about being pretty for you

at the hour of my death?

at least I am soothed,

never a finer shade of crimson.

[dirtmanjam]

IDIOT

have I been loved

are the purple-white lines on my arms

scratches from your claws

or merely code I can decipher

is the sting in your words

a rattle or a whimper?

eyes that once were so piercing,

fall softer on me now,

am I a sucker or romantic?

am I pushing too hard?

projecting again?

what is it that I want,

apart from the feeling of weight on my chest and someone warm in my arms.

I will suffer for my saving

[dirtmanjam]

lonely but not left the fuck alone

rotting alone,

yet I don't decompose,

am I worth it?

can anyone hear my screams?

carried off by the birds,

and beams of moonlight.

can I quit before I even begin,

spending all my youth dreaming,

with my blood streaming,

for nothing?

I close my eyes,

let my head rest again,

my mistress takes me.

I cannot find truth anywhere but tomorrow