You think that you were hurting me,
but I promise I was letting you.
Every fight felt like I was mourning the loss of the greatest love of my life.
And now…I am wondering how I am going to pay for the burial.
Why do we tattoo our bodies?
Is it in the name of art, or because we feel that we have to?
I think that, like love, it hurts us but we want more;
To feel the pain and let it settle enough to scar beautifully onto us
To showcase the signs of torture in us.
Our own personal warrior paint.
Then again, when I look at my tattoos, I don’t see art. I see experiences. Bad times, or good times with bad people. I let it set in, I guess in a way it’s me never letting go of her, that time, or that feeling.
What do your tattoos mean?
Is there a way to find my inner peace,
without completely depleting my fire?
To calm the storm that brews inside me,
without burning out the melancholy that
keeps me writing?
I look into the mirror, and I see an extraterrestrial right now. I can finally admit that I know nothing about the world around me, and although I am frightened I am enlightened. Meditation suddenly makes sense, Yoga no longer seems boring, and the path to happiness is somewhat forming. I see it, in front of me.
I am stubborn while holding on to the unidentified anger that lingers inside of me. It is like an unhealthy co-dependent relationship, not so much like with a lover; more like an abusive parent that you love too much to let go of. Afraid that if they are gone, you will lose a part of your identity. If I am no longer angry, and the happiness never comes…then what happens to me?
The air is bad here,
and I am breathing
but I can’t breathe.
I keep thinking that
there is only one more
breakdown to go, then
will I disappear?
Spirituality is our birthmother.
Prayer is our phone call home to soothe the chaos.
I am not the most religious person. I don’t go to church, I don’t live my life by the bible, but I pray. I pray for the sins that I know to commit, and the ones that I don’t. To be forgiven, not really for the opportunity to spend my afterlife with the Maker…not even sure if I believe in that, but for the forgiveness of my ignorance in case I am wrong. This world I live in is tainted. I pray that it doesn’t take me down with it, that I am not a victim to my surroundings, and that bad times come and go like minutes on the clock.
I pray that my mistakes don’t come to haunt me. That I don’t let go of something that is supposed to be in my life forever, that I am learning all of the right things, and not assuming all of the wrong things.
Tonight, I pray that God continues to bless me…His flawed child, and in return I will continue to walk in the path he leads me, whether I understand it or not.
Why did I get so offended when she called me straight?
My reaction was immediate, and nothing else that she’d said resonated with me…how could someone I’ve been so intimate with lower me down to something so far away from who I truly was?
I guess the only answer that I could come up with was that we (us homosexuals) spend all of our lives proving that we are indeed just as important, normal, and capable of love as heterosexuals, that we deserve to be acknowledged and are able to have normal friendships and relationships with other people without it being lowered into some sort of seedy pornographic and hetero idea for a tv sitcom, that me being compared to something that I simply am not stung just a bit more than any other name I’ve ever been called.
Hope that you read this and understand.
Many miles down the road in a taxicab,
Riding along to work until things work;
Staring out the window, waiting for the sun
To rise, waiting for the sun to shine,
Waiting for the pain to die…
Suffocating because I’m holding my breath, feels like suicide.
Suffocating, will no longer hold my breath, waiting for fate to decide.
Me without you is breathing again, no more tears to cry.
You without me is a relief, no more need to lie…
Congratulations, we both win.
We are sick!
Throwing up accusations
Invading each other’s mental space
Constantly on a difference pace
But we are alive though.
Breathing life into a dying situation
Marrying hope, avoiding the devastation
Of losing each other
To another lover
To be set free with no real constellation;
With a negative revelation
that love could have never saved us.
We are sick, true.
But Im saying hey love! (Smile)
Coursing inside of our veins like morphine through an IV.
Believe me, in me, with me…
And yeah, others love may die, yet
all sickness aside, we are alive,
Stay with me.