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Hands

You visited your grandfather when he was ill

You brought him chicken noodle soup, said it was his favorite

I smiled and said chicken noddle soup was my favorite

You kissed your nephew goodnight on his forehead

You held him until he fell asleep, said he was too precious for this world

I joked and said I was too precious for this world

You bought your mother flowers for Valentine’s Day

You said she deserved them, said roses were her favorite

I sighed and said roses were my favorite

You hold your best friend’s hand

You said she’s been through a lot, said she needs someone

I cried and said I’ve been through a lot, said I need some one

I cried.

Do you remember my face the very first time when my eyes watered and snot dribbled down my nose and it wasn’t because I had just deep throated your dick?

And do you remember what you said?

That’s because you didn’t, you didn’t say a thing.

And it was at that moment, my face covered in tears, in which I realized.

You don’t care enough about me to realize that what I want; is for you to bring me chicken noodle soup when I’m sick. It is for you to kiss my forehead goodnight into a gentle, loving dreamscape. It is for you to buy me flowers for Valentine’s Day, for Anniversaries, so something, anything, even for nothing because I just really really want you to buy roses for me.

And I want to feel that icky feeling of falling in love with someone, that icky feeling of falling in love that comes with you. I want to fall in love with your quirks, I want to fall in love with your dreams, fall in love with your demons, and finally, fall in love with the devil himself. I want your good morning text, I want your late night conversations, I want your body inside of mine. And no I’m not confused here, I don’t want my ex lover’s good morning text, I don’t want my fuck buddy’s late night conversations, I don’t even want Dream Boy inside of me anymore. All I want is you.

And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.

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In The Cards

I pulled the three of swords. No that can’t be right I said.

The three of swords is card of sadness, a card of pain,

A card of heartbreak, a card of despair, no that can’t be right,

A card of “I’d rather have three swords in my heart than this broken heart”

Shuffle again, this time concentrate on what it is you want.

I pulled the five of cups. No that can’t be right I said.

The five of cups is a card of depression, a card of loss,

A card of shattered expectations, a card of misfortune, no that can’t be right,

A card of “crying over spilled milk is really all you do and really all you can do”

Shuffle again, this time concentrate on what it is you want.

I pulled the nine of swords. No that can’t be right I said.

The nine of swords is a card of nightmares, a card of emotional turmoil,

A card of sleepless nights, a card of endless tears, no that can’t be right,

A card of “no matter how many blankets you hide under the monsters will still get you”

Shuffle again, this time concentrate on what it is you want.

I pulled The Lovers. No that can’t be right I said.

The Lovers is a card of relationship, a card of partnership,

A card of soul mates, a card of true love, no that can’t be right,

A card of “here Adam, here is your Eve, or in your case, Steve”

Shuffle again, this time concentrate on what it is you want.

I pulled Death. Ahhh much better.

I could use a good Death right about now.

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High School

With sneers, with leers, and with faces so cruel,

You’ll be with these people for the next four years.

Welcome to high school.

Look, there goes Vanity the school’s power couple, followed by cool

Jocks and blonde cheerleaders, attention trapped in hand mirrors,

With sneers, with leers, and with faces so cruel.

Look to the left, you’ll see Sloth, red eyes and open mouth dripping drool,

Next to the full mouth of Gluttony in his binging cheer.

Welcome to high school.

Careful, here comes Wrath, with a temper never lacking fuel,

He bullies others the way he has been, with shoves, with jeers,

With sneers, with leers, and with faces so cruel.

Now, watch as Greed parks his new car, spits at the homeless “fool”,

And disregards the sounds of Lust from the back stairwell near.

Welcome to high school.

Yet, afflicting the entire student body, Envy wears the crown jewel.

They all seem to say, with covetous eyes, with jealous revere,

With sneers, with leers, and with faces so cruel,

Welcome to high school.

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Obligation

You felt obligated didn’t you?

You felt obligated to see me,

Obligated to see me after you called,

After you called me drunk that night

Tears in your voice you called me stranded,

Stranded in Hillcrest you said come get me,

Come get me at four in the morning,

Come get me. Come save me.

You felt obligated didn’t you?

Obligated to see me just one last time,

Obligated after I came to your rescue,

After I came to your rescue.

You had no intention of being my friend still,

You had no intention of seeing me after that.

Just one last time, to get me out of your hair,

Just one last time, to get me out of your life.

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I Tried

I tried to write a poem about you, I really did.

I just couldn’t find the words,

I just couldn’t see the point.

And that’s when I realized.

You’re no prince charming,

You’re no white knight.

You’re not even a nice person.

You’re the boy that pines after straight guys,

You’re the boy that sucks dick for a bowl of bud,

You’re the white boy that says nigga this nigga that.

I tried to write a poem about you, I really did.

And that’s when I realized.

You ain’t shit.

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Brruuup

Brruuup.

Did you brruuup know brruuup

That if you brruuup drink Brruuup milk

And you are brruuup lactose intolerant brruuup

You can brruuup start burping brruuup constantly?

Did you brruuup know brruup

That if you brruuup eat too bruuup much

Bean soup bruuup that you bruuup

Can start bruuup burping constantly bruuup?

Did you brruuup know brruuup

That if you brruuup smoke brruuup

Crystal meth brruuup incorrectly that

You brruuup can start brruuup

Burping constantly brruuup?

Brruuup.

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Terms And Conditions

I’ve accepted the terms and conditions.

Now won’t you talk to me.

You don’t hold hands and you don’t do cuddling.

I can’t ask you for sex, I’m only there when you need a hole to fuck.

No hickies, no bite marks, and no scratches because you don’t want anyone to know.

And you don’t like to kiss, you said you only kiss people you care about, I get it.

Don’t text you unless you’ve text me first, and don’t call. Period.

Don’t complain, it makes me look ungrateful.

Don’t make extended eye contact, you don’t like me like that.

You can fuck me in any position you want, as hard as you want, and it’s up to you when we change.

And I remember, moaning is fine, but don’t moan louder when you’re hurting me. It’s a turn off.

I can only hit the poppers if you’ve sniffed them first. And don’t I dare ask for them.

It’s up to you if we use a condom and you can cum wherever and whenever you want.

And you allow me to suck your dick. It’s your gift to me.

I’ve accepted the terms and conditions.

Now won’t you love me.

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Roses...

When a boy finally buys me roses,

I’ll have to remember that they are just dying plants,

that now I need to search for a vase,

that I’ll need to change their water every couple days.

When a boy finally buys me roses,

I’ll have to find a spot to put them,

And the spot has to get enough sunlight,

But be out of reach so the cat doesn’t knock them over.

When a boy finally buys me roses,

They will just be a hassle,

They will just be an inconvenience,

They will die in about a week’s time.

All that work for nothing.

When a boy finally buys me roses,

When a boy finally buys me roses…

When a boy…

Roses…

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Roses Are Red

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Honey is sweet

And so are you

Roses are red

Violet are blue

Why can’t you see

That I loved you

Roses are overpriced

Violets aren’t even sold

Buying flowers for you

I would have ‘till old

Roses have thorns

Violets have bees

I can’t believe

I let you prick me

Roses cast shadows

Violets give shade

You were my true love

We had it all made

Roses are red

Red like my car

The car where we fucked

Underneath all the stars

The roses I gave you are dead

The violets I picked are too

You never gave me a flower

Not a single one or two

The flowers I gave you are wilted

The flowers I gave you are dried

You said you’d love me forever

Yet it’s ‘cause of you I have cried

Cried tears of sadness

Cried tears of pain

Losing you

Seemed like eternal rain

But then the sun shone through

And the rain it did stop

The clouds rolled away

Leaving me with my crop

So now I grow roses

And yes violets too

So that one day you’ll see

That you never came through

And so my roses are still red

Yet my violets not always blue

But one thing is certain

I’m better without you.

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Cage

To the one I once knew and called, Daniel.

I hated you from the start because you were

a boy

who played in the mud, who pushed me

around so much that my blood

boiled for vengeance against you who outshone me in all aspects,

the apple of our parent’s eyes, which I wished would

Rot

and decay and imagine our parents

delight when they’d find me whole and bright. So I

watched and waited for that exact moment to

Strike

you that kept me caged for

so long inside. But I knew your power weakened and as your strength

ebbed away, mine grew to its fullest extent and was so great

that with one blow you laid motionless.

DEAD.

Today, I laugh and play and do things I like with the People

I chose and am

who I was born to be, because Without you the only kind of

mould

I need to fit is totally and utterly me. You

can’t turn me into anything I am not and so now

everyone sees me and only me.

And now you do rot and decay

5 feet 10 inches

under where you will forever stay, never to rear

your ugly head again. So I write

this to gloat, to dance on your grave, to show my true self.

You got what was coming to you, you horrid cage.

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Thinking Of You

To this day I still think of you

I still remember your touch,

Still remember the tickling of your breathe

Still remember the good night kisses we shared.

I can’t forget your lips, I can’t forget your smile

I can’t forget the way you’d make my heart beat wild

I can’t forget the way your hand felt in mine

I can’t forget the time we spent just you and I

I still remember how you fucked me, I still remember it good

I still remember your moans as I deep throated you too

I still remember the moments after, the ones I spent in your arms

I still remember how happy you were in those moments so pure.

To this day I still think of you.

I think about you in the shower, I think about you before bed,

I think about you as I wake, I think about you in my car

I think about you when I cum, I think about you more than I can take.

I fear I’ll think of you for the rest of my days, for at this moment

I’m still thinking of you.

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Gifted

Mommy and Daddy both went to Harvard.

Good job Daniel, they said when I made the gifted class in third grade.

Look how smart he is they would whisper to each other.

He’s gifted you know, they would tell the neighbors.

What is this? A C on a report card.

Oh please mommy and daddy, 6th grade is hard.

7th grade is hard, 8th grade is hard

But you’re so smart sweetheart.

What is this? A D on a report card.

Oh please mommy and daddy, high school is hard.

Studying is hard and I’m bad at math.

But I’m still smart. Right?

What is this? A fail on a report card.

Oh please mommy and daddy, college is hard

I can’t focus and my notes don’t make any sense.

Mommy? Daddy? Please tell me I’m smart. Please please please please please please please please.

I’m smart. I’m smart. I’m smart. I’m smart. I’m smart.

Grades aren’t everything mommy.

So why is that the only thing you see daddy?

Mommy and Daddy both went to Harvard,

But they never call me gifted anymore.

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Dream Boy

Never a single lull

Conversation was never dull.

First date, iced coffees and shy glances

So much in common, what were the chances.

Dream boy dream boy. You have the most beautiful smile

Kind, funny, and with the most amazing sense of style.

He knew about astrology, the cutest Virgo I’d ever seen.

I loved astrology, an awkward Aquarius just turned nineteen.

He flunked out of UCSD, too much liquor he said.

I flunked out of SDSU, we were holding hands on my bed.

He loved RuPual’s Drag Race, his favorite queen Miss Fame

We watched episodes we both had already seen, holding him without shame.

Dream boy, dream boy. Where have you been all my life?

You’re the boy I want through thick and thin, through struggle and strife.

He mentioned his underwear had constellations, special just for me

Pulling down his pants he said how wonderful a blow job would be.

Blushing at his special undies, just for me, I pulled out his cock

He had the most perfect penis, long, thick, and hard as a rock.

Dream boy dream boy. What I wouldn’t do for you.

Just hold me tight and whisper in my ear that you feel it too.

His moans made me feel special, I was giving him my best

Twenty minutes later and I was licking cum off his chest.

Best head he had ever gotten he said, hands down

I couldn’t wait to be his, boyfriend title and crown.

That’s when he said those three fateful words, let’s be friends.

His semen on my face hadn’t even dried yet.

I didn’t understand, no we aren’t supposed to be friends.

You are the one, Dream Boy. You are the one.

You are the boy that is supposed to like me.

You are the boy that is supposed to be my first love.

You are the boy that is supposed to laugh at all my jokes.

You are the boy that is supposed to hold my hand in public.

You are the boy that is supposed to tell me how truly special I am.

You are the boy that is supposed to fuck me until all I want to do is cry.

You are the boy that is supposed to tell me everything is going to be all right.

Because if you aren’t that boy, if you don’t like me like that, then… then who will?

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Sneak Out

Sneak out tonight.

Sneak out tonight and take a midnight stroll with me.

Sneak out and make a new friend tonight.

Sneak out and explore the neighborhood with me.

Sneak out and take a few hits with me tonight.

Sneak out and race me to the park tonight.

Sneak out and push me on the swing set tonight.

Sneak out and sit under the stars with me tonight.

Sneak out and hold my hand tonight.

Sneak out and kiss me good night.

Sneak out and dream with me tonight.

Tonight.

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Coffee And Donuts

Pillows and Bed Sheets

Soap and Tooth Paste

Towels and Hair Gel

Mirrors and Clothing

Coffee and anti-depressants

Vyvanse and Donuts

Car keys and top 40

College and Subway

Grindr and guys

Douching and fasting

Door bells and strangers

Beds and blowjobs

Condoms and semen

John and HIV Negative

Daniel and HIV Unsure

Radio and House keys

Porn and cucumbers

Tumblr and Grindr

Cat naps and solitude

Mirrors and makeup

Dresses and drag

Showers and face wash

Whitening strips and glitter

Ke$ha and traffic

Friends and kisses

Playlists and laughter

Hollywood and Vine

Alcohol and alprazolam

Cannabis and amphetamine salts

I.D. checks and cover charges

Music and boys

Lights and strippers

Porn stars and cigarettes

Dancing and blurred vision

4 a.m. and designated

Freeway construction and buzzed

Farewells and good nights

Front door and tiptoes

Dizziness and sleep

Saturday morning and hangovers

Water and pills

Coffee and Donuts.

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A Poem A Day

It is a couch I sit on, not a recliner

And we see each other every Monday at 8 a.m.

We use the same office every time even though it doesn’t have her name on the door

And I sit and look around the room and wiggle my foot.

And she listens

I tell her about my family, how my mom has a short temper but she cares,

About how my dad watches sports and prays the rosary every night,

How my older sister feels like none of us really like her,

And how my younger sister is the only person that truly gets me.

And she listens.

I tell her that I have trouble concentrating,

About how I never got the good grades my parents expected from me,

About how I pace back and forth for hours on end, thinking about everything and nothing,

How my excessive thoughts keep me up at night.

And she listens.

I tell her how I’m afraid for the dark,

How I get anxiety around extended family,

How I used to rock back and forth telling myself “I’m okay. I’m okay” over and over again,

About how I’ve never had a best friend before.

And she listens.

I tell her how I imagine my life would be if I was born a girl,

How I used to hate being a boy,

How all I want to do is play Barbie’s with her,

How I stopped exploring my gender because it’s just too much.

And she listens.

I tell her about the boys I like,

About the men that fuck me,

About how I’ve never been in a relationship,

And how I’ve never had sex with someone I’ve had feelings for.

And she listens.

I tell her about how I never cry,

About how I get overwhelmingly sad at times,

About how lonely I feel,

About how no matter how hard I try, no matter how sad I am, I just can’t produce tears.

And at least she listens.

A poem a day keeps the doctor away.

A poem a day keeps the nightmares at bay.

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Yours Truly

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