#queertragedy

[instrumentale]

you can add me to the boy count too

yeaaa team

count: 5

[unsteadying]

            there are reasons why you never make HOMES out of people:       1) should the foundation be weak, you’ll find yourself swimming in ruins of your love               2) should fear have dominion, you’ll find yourself waking to an empty bed                3) should uncertainty conspire, you’ll find yourself doubting his promise                                     ( to love you forever, ‘till death do us part )                            4) & should fate intervene, you’ll find yourself at his grave                                             still, he is home to you, & you, him.                                     & for him, you know it’s worth the risk, even if                                      you know it’ll  D E S T R O Y  you in the end.

[unsteadying]

I. 

     his eyes tell of a tragedy.       the tragedy of a man who’s lost his way.            he’s stuck in a war that ended years ago.      but in truth, the war never ended for him.      no, the war simply followed him home.      everyday he goes into battle --       armed, ready to fire, bullets between his teeth.      you can see how it haunts him.      you can see the damage the war has done.      you wonder if there’s anything left of that soldier you once knew.      the man. not the machine.  II.       his lips taste like sorrow.      bittersweet ; the consequence of dancing with death.      he won’t tell of the hell he’s been through,      but you can taste it when he kisses you.      he’ll smile, he’ll pretend he’s fine.       he’ll tell you it’s nothing.      but you know he’s lying.      you know he’s lying right through his teeth.      but you taste the truth when he kisses you.      you taste the sorrow. you taste the pain. you taste the war.      you wonder if he knows that you understand. III.        his touch feels like vaguely like redemption.       soft, hesitant, with an undertone of calloused.        you can feel how the war wages on within him,       how it’s consumed every fibre of his being.        you feel it when he touches you.       but he doesn’t touch you like he used to.       no, he’ll try to. he’ll try to be gentle. he’ll try.       but all that he manages is something that borders       on savagery. something  M O N S T R O U S.        too rough. bruising. oh, that’s going to leave a mark.              you wonder if things will ever be the same.