You & Me Both

“You know
where I am
if you need me.”

“I do.”

Know where
I am or
need me?’

It’s been a rough few weeks for poetry. So have this instead.



It’s National Coming Out Day again today, kids, and even though I’ve kissed more boys than girls lately, it doesn’t make me any less queer. Happy day, and don’t forget to live out loud.



Anger is more useful
than sadness but
nothing makes you
feel alive like fear.

And I am a coward.

I keep making
the wrong choice.
A bad choice.
Like I have no choice.

I don’t know
if I need you.

Or rather,
I think I do,
but I don’t know
if I should.

I am so angry
at the things
you did and
I’m so angry
about the slights
I’ve perceived that
aren’t even real yet.

Things are bad
for you right now
and I can tell
you don’t want
to burden me with it.

Things are bad
for me right now
and all I want
is to know that it
would be all right
to trust you with
my burdens.

One day
I will have
a love that
comes easy.

That isn’t distracted
by life or circumstance.

The drudgery will
still be there, of course,
and that is the way it’s
supposed to be but, the love…

The love will come easy.

I don’t have anywhere
to be just now, or rather,
I do, but I choose to stand here
arm outstretched and waiting.

I will wait right here.
Anger is more useful
than sadness but
nothing makes you
feel alive like fear.

And I am a coward.

But I am trying
to be brave for you.



Your words are powerful.

I choose to believe
the ones that broke me

because every other word
was a feeble attempt to
make the others right and
they don’t have the strength
you may have wanted them to.

Every beautiful word
you spoke in my direction
falls silently upon me.

Bullied into submission.
Drowned out by lies.

If I could change anything
about the way you look at me
and the way that we talk
to each other now

I would believe what you say.
But that will never happen again.

Your words are powerful.
But they broke me
so long ago.
I started this poem last week and finally finished it this morning because I had to write something. Going through a bit of a rough patch right now. It’s funny because people always ask if I write poetry to help express my emotions better, or as some form of release, etc. And I just smile sadly and say “I wish it helped even a little. I write because I can’t not write. That’s all.”