When I Die,

platonic signs of devotion

I am hopelessly in love with you, but platonically. I want to hear from you every time something small happens throughout the day. I want to know when you think of me. I want to hold your hand and walk through a field of lavender. I want to hug you so tight, you will feel it for years. I want to cry on your shoulder and you wipe my tears away laughing that I could have drown you. I want to draw you so I can remember the curve of your cheek and how your eyes try to hide when you smile. i want to let you know that I have fallen in love with myself, because you have shown me that it is perfectly acceptable to be broken and still amazing. We are only humans in this impossibly large universe together and I will be thankful every hour of having met you.

I’m in love with the stars. With the moon. They make appearances in my writing more often than they should. There’s something so romantic about looking into the night sky. I suppose I am a romantic at heart, who knew?

I will love you quietly. In my way. You are in my thoughts, and songs, and poetry. You are in my dreams night and day.

I am a lament, the trees whisper into the breeze on a windy day. Full of sorrow and grief over my useless existence.

I want to be one of those normal people.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘there’s no such thing as normal.’

There are people out there though, that don’t hesitate to walk out the door to go to a store. There are people that don’t fantasize about death. There are people who don’t have trauma or flashbacks and nightmares about what others have done to them.

I want to be one of those people that wasn’t diagnosed with a major depressive disorder at 17.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to try several medications just for them all to fail.

I want to be one of those people that doesn’t have an anxiety disorder, and has a hard time just leaving the house.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to go to a therapist, just to add PTSD to the list of mental disorders.

I want to feel like a person again, instead of a number of things wrong with me, that affect my day to day life.

Please. Just let me be..

Starved for affection

‘There are thousands of children starving in Africa’. I was told this throughout my childhood, when I refused to eat dinner. How does my eating help those in need across the Atlantic? It doesn’t, it never did.

How about what I was starved for? It wasn’t food or love. I was told ‘I love you’ by my family every day. Affection, physically, that is a whole other story. My father worked all day weekdays and we rarely saw him. Even on weekends, he had other hobbies. I was raised in church, that god awful place, so we got to see him on Sundays. But he was an outdoorsy person and I hated the outdoors. My mother, on the other hand, well she was a deeply unhappy person. Struggled with depression and so gracefully handed it down to her daughters. We rarely saw her either, she slept her days away. Physical touch, that was rare. I grew up in a ‘loving home’, but the love wasn’t shown, only spoken.

So, i learned that physical touch was an option, not needed. Rarely wanted. It has really fucked up my adult life. Any relationship I’ve ever been in hasn’t been romantic in the slightest. Sex, well that’s what a man needs. It’s not affectionate, never will be. It is something to pacify those urges so they don’t look elsewhere. Me, a deeply sexual person now. It’s awful. It just feels wrong when I have urges for well, anything. I loathe being touched in any way, yet I crave it. I guess I feel the need to be touched. I just don’t trust anyone to touch me the right way.

If affection has never been shown to you, you learn to live without it.

Societal Norm

I've spent most of my life trying to fit into the 'societal norm'. Gods is it awful. Say this, do this, dress to impress..

Don't curse, please watch what you eat, black is the devil's color..

Get down on your knees and pray to Jesus when all is going wrong, you need to find a man to marry before you spread your legs, sundresses and bright colors..

I'll get down on my knees to pleasure who I wish, it will be sinful. I sleep with who I wish and it will not only be men. If my graphic black shirts offend, well good for me.

I do not believe in your 'God'. I am one of those gays you despise.

Guess what??

I do not exist to please anyone but myself.

I'm doing a damn good job of it too.

Kindly avert your attention elsewhere, while I do whatever I want.

I rightly don't give a single fuck about your comfort.

I mourn for all the women that were misunderstood in the past. The women who wanted to live their lives without the restraint of man telling them how they should live. Women who were burned alive for no reason other than they were born the wrong gender. Women who spoke their minds and were persecuted because their beliefs were different.

I will mourn for all the women who live after me. Women in the future will face the same things we have been experiencing for thousands of years. I have never considered myself a ‘feminist’. After years and years though, you’d think that something would change. If it hasn’t changed yet…why would anything ever be any different?

His eyes,

Blue as the sky on a stormy day.

Her eyes,

Hazel like the sodden ground beneath.

He is beautiful, in all the strange ways.

She is pure chaos, all sharp teeth.

They will never belong together.

Not in this lifetime.

Two almost lovers bound to roam forever.

So they dream of sometime…

Can I tell you a secret?

I dream about a different life. One without children and without a husband. I dream of living alone. Having a small studio apartment. A decent job. Ultimately relying on me myself and I for everything. A few good friends I could meet on the weekends. Just living my life for me and me alone.