He wakes up
and notices nothing unusual.
He wanders downstairs in skimpy pjs, switches on the radio
The breakfast show, a witty host and her regulation male sidekick-
the butt of the jokes.
The news is going, that abducted boy found dead, sexually abused, throttled
A woman helping with inquiries
inevitable really.
Bored of the chatter he turns it off
Eats his cereal before the telly, a music channel
Women in baggy jeans singing about how nice men look
in clubs, dancing topless around holes.
He unconsciously scrutinises the semi-clad men that surround her
Winding their perfect bodies in sync to the beat, hip rolling
Looks down
Last time I checked, I'm a woman.
Yes, I wear guy clothes- they're more comforable.
Yes, I have short hair- it's easier to style.
That doesn't make me less of a woman.
So why all the dirty looks from other women,
As I walked out of the locker room, eyes down,
Wearing my dark androgenous clothes?
Underneath I am still a woman.
Why all the looks from the lifeguards at the pool,
When I was swimming workouts with a group of guys?
I'm wearing clothes over my bikini,
But I am no less of a woman.
Yes I have a stern face and tense jaw.
If you knew my thoughts, you would too.
I am stoic and reject my emotions;
That doesn't mean I'm not
Do you know what it feels like?
To feel so socially awkward
around people that you feel
uncomfortable in your own skin,
knowing that you don't fit in.
And, you walk away...
thinking that being alone
will be better for you -
but you're wrong.
You just feel even more alone;
even more rejected from society;
perhaps even sad, in some way.
What do you do while waiting for someone?
As you wait, and wait, and wait for them -
hoping they'll come soon
lest you seem like a loner
walking aimlessly around,
causing people to pity you.
And your face gets hot,
you start to sweat because
they know -
they know of how alone you are
and they feel sorry for
She replaces her wrists
with the sharp thorns
of roses and slurred
don't-touch-me's
-
as she speaks
in an old tongued
language that whispers
de
cipher
me.
-
She collects stars
on her knuckles,
& her dust eyes
are sad moon nebulas
starved for love.
-
But, the kisses
she sinks into the curve
of her lover's ribcage
by night, warm that
supernova heart.
Behind this shell of darkness
Lurks a world filled with light
I've got more than pain to offer
To those who approach me right
I can't force anyone to be here
Or be somebody that I'm not
What lurks inside is sincere
Perhaps you should give me a shot
I'm all for exploring people
But they have to open up as well
And play the game of give and take
Otherwise they can go to hell
Why should I bother wasting time
On those who aren't willing to give
Those who would come only to take
Are the ones I can't forgive
Take the time to dig down deep
As there is warmth beneath the surface
I'll accept you as you are
Just be sure to dig in wit