Good morning.

Be careful where you lay your head
The sun will set and you'll be dead
Be careful where you lay your head
Your life be published, your life be read
Be careful where you lay your head
You make the sheets, but what's in that bed
Be careful where you lay your head
Dreams will go where dreams are led

I'm gay.

I’m gay. Know that I realize this lacks the surprise of the Casey Anthony verdict (though I’m sure it’ll hold much disappointment to some) and has the shock value of a Pixar sequel. “What? They’re doing another Finding Nemo, but the first one was so average.” To a few, this may feel like a sequel. “Isn’t his twin brother a queer too???”  Yes, we were born this way. *Cue Gaga* I am hoping, however, that this is more like Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, self-explanatory,  and less like Son of the Mask…..Really? Don’t remember it?

For a good, long span of time (20 years), I have been playing it neutral.  In a reality where all three of your sisters are pastor’s wives, the decision to come out could also become a decision of eternal damnation (bring SPF). I should note, however, that I have three very loving, beautiful sisters, who care about me very much, but that’s exactly why I am writing. Many young people with my sexual status have been unfortunately stranded within a family whose idea of support is punishment and exile, due to the misconception that children are more property and less people.  In my experience, most of this distress created by family and given to a homosexual is brought on by a spiritual belief, the one in my family being Christianity.

It is an extremely volatile atmosphere to grow into adulthood in, strongly feeling drawn one way by your body and fervently being taught and conditioned inversely.  All of you struggling with this one currently know that your body will ALWAYS prevail over your mind, always. In my life, my body has frequently led the way into the search for my soul. Think about it, what’s more trustworthy, some concept an outside source has given you to mull over, or your own flesh.  The biggest barricade in my search for me has been the Church’s idea that you have to “let your flesh die away” in order to become all that you were meant to be.  

Luckily, truth is the most potent and addictive of drugs. It only takes a single hit of veracity to completely ruin your life. I remember my first trip, it was the sixth grade. So many of my peers taunted me for being gay that if someone shouted “Hey, Fag!” in the hallway, I’d immediately look up, and then quickly back down as if I had a nervous tick. “I probably have Tourettes, going to the doctor this week.” I was in the bathroom, where I spent much of my time in school, this one located on the sixth grade hallway. Some very unfortunate girl in my math class, one of those girls who drew ponies on her notebook and cut her hair like Rachel Maddow, had asked me if I was gay. “Are you gay?!” she asked assertively and a little too loudly for my liking, “because I have a horse who is, and I love him just the same.” In a mad rush of embarrassment and in an attempt to be as rude as possible, I excused myself to the bathroom directly. Looking in the mirror at my blondish brown afro and the brail on my face to match, I laughed. And just as I laughed it came out, “I’m gay”. Not counting the current event taking place, this was the single most liberating experience of my entire life. As a result, I cried in that bathroom for the rest of the period.

There are most certainly children and young people in my vicinity, daily, which are just like me.  Growing up, all I wanted was an adult to tell me that there was nothing wrong with me. When I realized that I wasn’t inherently nasty or disgusting, I was free. My hope for all those living in this stage is that you live your life ardently and with kindness. Understanding that those who oppose you are not always an obstacle, usually they are merely senseless opposition, and a big waste of time.  I’m gay. I’m not a pedophile, and I don’t worship Satan (mostly because that went out of style).  I am tremendously happy, because I made the decision to live that way, and I hope you do as well. 

Head on.

Every once and awhile I will glance into the eye of things. Like when someone I'm with takes a swift turn in front of oncoming traffic. My heart races and I look straight into the faces of those that could destroy me. I wonder if they feel it too, if they can sense the life in every cell of their body awaken. I wonder if they too, sense fear and exhilaration simultaneously, the pleasure of panic. This is my love for you, dear. I am just passing in font of you, hoping to catch your gaze. But do I want a collision? I want to be held and secure with in my own car, with in my own. Yet, the idea of your life exploding into mine, tantalizes me. I have stalled, will you destroy me, head on?

Hey, Daisy.

You grew up through the sidewalk
Cracks
The world was busy without you
But you have a silent will
The tree that has
Gnarled roots
Embedding yourself riverside
Splitting the force of the collective
Sure that we had washed
You away
We hope, and doubt for you
All you do is stand
But do you know how firmly

Together, we are two.

Currently, the seat across from me is vacant. Occupied merely with the gaze of mine own eyes, and the thirst of my own heart. It is conceivable that the seat needs a rest. Perhaps I overwhelmed it with too many, too early. The cushion may still have some residual imprints from some previous ass that sat down hard and got up fast. One thing’s for sure, the draft has become more direct, clear and steady. There isn’t a soul to block my access to the flow of air. I see, now quite plainly, through the window that previously was denied to me. It’s funny how little of the outside world is visible when the seat in front of you is taken. I gag at the thought of sunrises and sunsets that have exploded all around my obliviousness, the everyday being thwarted by the present. Still, there are times that I allow myself to slip the lids of my eyes together, to drown myself in every sour memory that now leaves me this way, alone. So many have sat and dealt their hand to me, as if I, or we, were shopping, purchasing each other. Some have taken their seat and required something of me, most often some sort of verification of personal value. There has never been a time, however, where I was able to fulfill anyone, even though I may go on trying for the rest of my life to do so. There have been others that sit down and want nothing. There was not a thing that I could give to them, and not a thing that I could reap. Reminds me of a disappointing audition, no one tells you what you did wrong, or what to work on. They just tell you to go. “You must always leave an audition with a gracious smile, saying ‘Thank you, for the opportunity!” The trouble with me is that I haven’t ever found a show that I wanted to be the leading lady of. There is way too much responsibility and weight to carry. I would much rather be cast as the supporting guy with five scenes and all the witty one liners. The audience doesn’t expect much out of the actor, and the actor doesn’t anticipate much from the audience. I guess that is it, expectation. There has yet to be a person to sit across from me and not hold me to some previous conceived notion. All I have had to offer is me, it would be impossible for me to deliver the hopes that have been perfected in another’s mind. It is probable that I may just need to slide over, leave some space next to me. That way, I can’t block your view, and you can’t get in the way of mine. We can take in the world as individuals, because that’s what we were made to be.

Follow me towards the moon.

Here I lie in the line of things
In synch with the population of beings
Restless within the flow of creation
A world of all of us
Waiting
Anticipating the salvation of our bodies
What of the direness of our souls
My heart beats for my skin
And my skin aches for a heart
Giving up on fates and destinies
Simultaneously bending to the will of the world
At the brink of deconstruction
Grab my hand

Too close for discomfort.

I can feel your heart beat racin
Runnin up the line of my mind
My thoughts keep pacin
I can't see your eyes
Your face is hazin
Is this feelin real?
The bed is movin
Disinfect the soul
We keep spinnin
Everybody whispers
But I keep feelin
Maybe they're all right
I'm wrong, I'm sinnin
This may not be love
But at least it's livin