A shoutout to her for declaring love.
For putting it out there, opening up.
For having feelings, for liking a dude.
For standing me at my most rude -
Until I left with desperate screams
Of why not me,
Of why not me.
A laugh for me, for finding reality.
Far too late, but still worth the finality.
Far too obvious, yet far too blind.
Blinkered by those I'd left behind.
The closet is open and now I see
That this is me,
That this is me.
A drink for her for living life.
For being true, for being right.
For speaking out, for standing up
For independence, and for pot.
A drink for her for breaking free -
But none for me,
But none for me.
A kiss for him for finding ways.
For sucking dick, for being gay.
For grinding, lying, sneaking off.
For abusing others' faith and trust
A kiss for the boy that would still be free -
If not for me,
If not for me.
I'm left, I'm right, I'm torn apart.
I want the sex without the drugs.
I'm green with envy, white with fear.
Unsure which side is fake or real.
I'm safe down here, but far from free.
And woe is me,
And woe is me.
YOU ARE READING
to the devil, from a ghost.
Poetrya mismatched anthology of poems I wrote over the course of the year that I wasn't really me. Very edgy but okay from a literary perspective.