nice

your t-shirt smells like money
and kisses
and your cock behind me
and your hands on the waists of gay boys, shoving them up against walls

our fingers entwined
and your mouth scrunched to one side
your head ducked in the shower
and the way that you're not quite comfortable with yourself

I could eat you up, in little bites, piece by piece.
I could tie you up and never let you down.
But mostly I just like having you around the house, even if we're not talking.
It's nice passing you in the hallway.
It's nice hearing you brush your teeth.
Can't we just, do this, for a little while?

cigarettes and lies, i am a child

I have dreams...but I wake up in fear that you will never be my dear, dear friend.

A few nights ago I reread your latest letter, and then after I fell asleep you were standing on my parent's front porch. It was summertime and you apologized for lingering hugs. You couldn't stay long, you had to get back, back on a plane.

In my dreams you look and act like yourself, except you're usually sweet to me. I feel weird all the next day after I wake up, thinking of you.

Dear Adam Rose

How can you say you "truly miss" me? Because you're in Germany? We talk more now than we did when you lived at home!

Blue January

It's coming. It's coming and you're not here, and now I know for sure that you never will be. Sad that I can't even add "again" onto that. But maybe that's for the best, as I can guess I would be sickeningly blue if I had something to compare this absence to.

Of course, this year will probably be a smidge worse, what with the recent news.

so who's selfish, and who's sorry?

I'm on the verge of slashing myself up all over the place. As it's been for a few days now.

It's not that I didn't mostly know this was the way things are. It's just that without your words spelling the definite end of all my imaginings I was still able to hope, a little bit, sometimes, when the lights were off. When I was feeling very bad.

Because, quite frankly, it was much easier to believe in a fake, false hope than is has been to face the dreadful facts. Ones I can't even quite bring myself to think since Thursday night, 'cause I can't handle and don't want the utter agony they bring to my soul.

No more watermelon dress, no more late afternoon sun on hardwood floors, no more nine to five, no more tattoos, no more world's-rightest sex, no more leaning on shoulders, no more remembering, no more soul understanding...

No more coming home. Ever.
I can't do it, I can't do it.

rhyme; nursery, portentous

There was an old woman had three sons,
Jerry and James and John,
Jerry was hanged, James was drowned,
John was lost and never found;
And that was the end of her three sons,
Jerry and James and John.

11.30/12.1

You are inquisitive and sweet. You have blonde hair that's growing into a long stalk at the back of your neck, and ask for advice on what color to dye it. "Not black," I say. "I think dark red would look better." You tell me my hands are dainty and cute, that I have very soft skin. You are polite, chivalrous, even. You thought we got lost on the highway, but the truth is I deliberately ignored my exit because I wasn't ready to give you up, just yet. So we talk until 6AM, when you have to leave to pick up your friend at a party. "I wish I could stay and cuddle," you tell me. I can't manage the nerve to kiss you, even with your hands on my waist, your lips on the back of my neck. You're skinny and scene and young and everything I've never had in my lap before.

You're very far away now. But I feel like our souls might have bits that are the same color, and I wanna lay in bed with you all day, and look in those pretty eyes.

Johnny

I forgot.

I'm so sorry.

Shit. You've been gone 28 years. That's a really fucking long time. I wonder what you would be doing right now if you were still with us?

I can't believe I forgot, I feel like such an asshole. But I really, really miss you.

What have you got to lose?

Listen, I know this sounds crazy and it's probably going to be one of the dumbest things you've ever heard, but I just wanted you to know that if you ever find yourself unhappily single at any point in the future, I would sell off important limbs for a second chance with you.

I was never honest enough with you in the right ways, but I'm telling you now that I still love you, and I'm about 99.9986% sure that I'll keep on loving you until well after my death. Whether or not you ever speak to me again.

I will always think of you fondly and I sincerely hope you find contentment and peace in your life.