1)I had had my fill of you,
And you gave me wine and laid me to rest.
I was drunk on your death,
And you carried me through your life;
I felt heavy and splintered
While my father chopped away at me,
Putting his blindfold on and looking down in shame for not knowing you
Since his father's memories.
I grew like a man, or woman, or nonbinary,
Not something else entirely –
Yes, I wanted my lust back, but I love studying authenticity too much;
I fall in love and die to myself at mental hospitals and college lounges,
And, sometimes, you show up –
When I listen to music or almost touch her sternum -
Only as a ghost –
I pass right behind you, ahead of you,
Beside you on nights when I wake my mom up,
Screaming in my rest.
I know what I'll see in the window -
I know, not-absolutely -
I am the creature,
Wisdom of men,
My own life and death;
Friends don't scare me,
And I think about sex irregularly
WHY DOES BIOLOGY SHOCK US
But are they important,
Are they careful,
Are they crazy or nice or lacking or losing or painful,
Am I a we or an I that wants to die to ourselves and take up our questions?
Can I breathe or just take in breath when we don't make out on the bedframe?
Well, You can call me all you want,
Because you also know it:
We can do so much better,
And We are an I, and I'm an I that generates shame...
2)Dearest pride. Dearest fear. O my songs of fixation, fact and not fiction –
I ask you last:
What can I do to love like You?
