Tuesday, April 14, 2009


So I wrote something last night. I'm not sure if it's a song (because it doesn't rhyme), a poem (because I didn't follow any sort of rhythm), or a story (because it's not terrible coherent). I guess it's a jumbled mess, and it's my mess. And it's called Abundance. And now I know how you know I'm gay.


I have so much anger inside of me sometimes
that I just want to punch right through the wall.
Instead, I work out and I strain myself.
I'd like to say that it feels good,
that the pain, the sweat, the fatigue,
that they all make me feel more alive
more vital.
But that's a lie.
I do it because as shitty as I feel
as tired, sweaty, and overheated as I end up,
it's still better than how I was feeling before.
When my anger was all I could think about.
Now I'm too tired to care.
Maybe that's why people have kids.
Maybe the the constant sense of exhaustion
keeps you from going insane
keeps you from rolling over
and hating who you've become
or what you've become.
Maybe this is as good as it gets.

I have so much to offer to someone else
that gets lost in the shuffle of youth.
The packaging ain't pretty and it ain't neat;
it isn't something you run to on Christmas morning.
I'd like to say I have so much patience,
waiting for the right one to open me up
and get the the best surprise of her life.
Something genuine, something hopeful,
something else entirely.
I had that once, you know;
she opened me up and I was sparkly, shiny, warm.
And then I lost my gleam
And then I lost her.
Islanded in a stream of unlearned lessons
because people don't change
they just pretend, over and over.
I'm re-gifted to no one, tucked in a drawer
the wrong color sweater, headed for Goodwill
I'd take any good will at this point.

I have so much contempt for the world
A world that refuses to change
because change is fucking HARD.
It doesn't happen overnight
it won't make you richer
it won't make you prettier on the outside.
And if you don't get unwrapped then you don't get seen.
We all like the idea of "new and improved"
but we don't want new. Not really. Just improved.
"New" would imply having learned something,
having made a self-discovery or two
A moment of clarity
People would rather the ugly duckling turn into the swan
but continue to think like the duckling
than for the duckling to accept itself
and become the swan from the inside out.
It ain't pretty but it's worth it.

I have so much hope that someday
someday soon
I'm going to have my moment.
My moment of undiluted vision
A moment that glares so bright
no packaging will be able to hide it.
You'll be able to see it
no matter how hideous the distraction
No matter what obstacles trick the eye.
And then someone will be smart enough to open me up
It will be the greatest gift I can give
To offer everything I have in this life
And they'll love it
So Much.

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