Where a teardrop fills the ocean
And loss burns up the sky,
This is the place you'll see me
In the wasteland of your eyes.
When a solemn promise splinters
And a vow breaks open wide,
That is the moment rendered
And I am torn from your side.
What fire that burns the coldest
With charred remnants of this heart
Gives birth over to grievence,
Intertwined souls ripped apart.
Enraptured by self-pity and prozac,
Life's poetry and prose became subjugated.
Compassion soured with corruption,
As indulgence was championed - advocated.
We became mired
Between and beneath
The past and the future.
The distance 'tween the two
Burdened our perception
Of the here and now.
We could not glimpse
Our humanity
As it succumbed,
A victim of our dying piety,
Hidden within pixels
And plastics
That were hailed
As our saviour,
That which would connect and bring closer,
But,
As the horror of reality reached its closure,
Separated and divided
Not only from those moments physical
But emotional as well as that deemed spiritual.
In effect,
We became the doppelganger
Of what we once sought to be.
An image translucent,
Seen soulless
Staring back from an electric glow
Eclectically reaching
For cohesion
But only finding futility
In our lack of ability
For adhesion.
How our words failed
And wisdom faltered
When what we stood for
Stumbled,
Crumbled
Into catechisms
Alienated by contempt,
Conformity and convenience.
Within those shadows
Betwixt the dream we shared
And the nightmare we now live
Dwell the souls lost,
Left behind,
An intangible mass
Behind the glass
Struggling for composure,
For palpability.
Bound by our culpability,
Within the darkness,
A legion waits.
Littered about our necks,
Memories chained.
A rosary caressed,
Worn with disdain.
Skimming the surface may result
in the removal of integral pieces
that lay atop the residual
bottom feeding thoughts
that drown us every day.
Toleration comes in moderation,
as it is not a tradition
to show your feelings
to anyone that might want you to.
To want is easy, but to need
is a hunger that keeps
me famished day to day.
There is a difference that sits
in front of us,
in a chair,
hair disheveled,
holding a remote,
trying to change the channels of our feelings.
I feel as if someday the batteries will run out.
I just hope it is not before mine,
because someday, someone may want to watch.
Stay out of my life infinitely.
^(I love how softly I can hold myself these days.)
^(If life is geometry, I prefer the square-)
^(two sides meeting without apology,)
^(four right angles that neither lean nor beg.)
^(I am a sugar cube.)
^(Should I harden into ice,)
^(do not ask why I am like this;)
^(ask instead what hand turned the water so cold)
^(that sweetness had no choice but to freeze.)
^(I dawdle the interval between states-)
^(soft, flowing, head lifted into the clouds)
^(while my shadow trails,)
^(quiet and unremarked,)
^(a loyal geometry you are free to forget.)
^(I out-snaked the snake.)
^(No milk in the shake,)
^(and still they come to the yard.)
^(And for now,)
^(that is enough.)
its never black or white, always somewhere in the middle… and ALWAYS within reason.
Was allowing myself to actually believe that i could be loved.
i now know better.
“I tried everything ice shown you so much kindness“ blah blah blah.
you did EVERYTHING other than try to reconcile.
i think the most sicken part of it all is the fact you seen my hesitation and gave me shit for it. You made me believe and trust you. Just so you could inflict as much harm as possible on me.
because what? I didn’t sleep you years ago? When we didn’t even know each other? you harassed me, wouldn't take no for an answer & so i had to get nasty with you so that you would leave me alone.
years later we meet in person ive changed since our original exchanges and i was so kind to you. I had finally healed and was trying to be the real me. The me who i was a child. Sure, i was still learning and growing. I can proudly admit my mistakes.
my light irritated your demons. And you gathered a whole team to fuck with me. To traumatize me even tho you figured i had never faced adversity before.
honestly its just disgusting when you seemed like you understood me.
only to teach me a great lesson: someone can stalk you and have access to your entire life… if they committed to not understanding then no amount of anything will get you to see the real me.
and i think thats the kicker of it all… I’m unkind to a group of abusers who were awful to me? I’m expected to continue showing kindness and understanding to people who never once did the same?
that is your legacy, congratulations. Not worth your weight. nothing but fools gold. a fake a fraud a lame.
you say you dont hate me: but my presence triggers the shame in you for what you've done.
and to think sitting down over coffee coulda solved this.
ill never wish harm on you. just know every shitty thing that happens to you is simply you getting karma. And you deserve it.
please, say you dont know me weve never met. Stay the fuck out of my life. forever.
tired of your werid ass messaging me from fake accounts. Your ob with me is seriously unhealthy
I’ve come to accept your cognitive dissonance avoidance patterns.
You need to cast me as the bad guy — the one who stalked, harassed, and majorly invaded your privacy — so you can remain the good guy. Calling me crazy is how you justify that story. You accuse me of the very things you did.
I’ve also come to accept that you lack the capacity for dialectical thinking. You’re trapped in a narrative you wrote yourself and too ashamed to do what it would take to mend the bridge.
you and i both know the truth of the matter. I have no problems taking accountability for the few things that i had done. Can you do the same? Or has the mess become too big for you to clean up and in typical avoidance fashion you run away.
it was okay when you did it… all of a sudden I defended myself and I’m the issue?
just remember.. you chose to be a lesson. Its on you.
remember the days when you used to recommend swamps to hide bodies in.😆
I know I can come across as distant, guarded, or even a bit sharp sometimes. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve learned it’s not really about being rude or cold. It’s just what happens when you’ve spent years navigating a space where most interactions start with a profile picture and end with silence.
Every time I open Grindr, I brace myself for the same pattern: fakes, flakes, people who disappear the moment things feel real, pic collectors who never intend to meet, and guys who are only interested in the idea of connection rather than the actual work of one. It’s not dramatic to notice the pattern. It’s just pattern recognition after seeing the same thing play out again and again.
When I seem dismissive, it’s rarely because I’m trying to be unkind. It’s because I’ve already watched this exact sequence enough times to recognize the early signs. Giving the benefit of the doubt repeatedly taught me that some people are only present for as long as the novelty lasts. Once that fades, so do they.
When I get quiet, it’s not because I’m plotting or punishing anyone. It’s because I’ve learned that pushing too hard for clarity or trying to “course-correct” mid-conversation often just accelerates the end. Sometimes the kindest thing I can do for both of us is to stop feeding energy into something that’s already showing me what it is.
I’m not claiming my read on people is always perfect. It isn’t. But when the culture around dating and hooking up largely skips the slower process of getting to know someone, you develop a different kind of literacy. You start noticing inconsistencies earlier. You pay attention to effort, consistency, and whether someone’s words match their actions. That skill doesn’t switch off when you leave the app. It follows you into real life, into conversations, into the way you protect your time and your peace.
None of this is me asking for sympathy or framing being gay as some uniquely heavy burden. It’s just me acknowledging that repeated experiences shape how you move through the world. I’ve been disappointed enough times that I’ve become careful. Careful with my energy, careful with my hope, careful with how quickly I let people in.
If I seem harder to reach sometimes, it’s not because I’ve given up on connection. It’s because I’ve learned the cost of giving it away too easily. And I’m still trying to figure out how to stay open without leaving myself completely unprotected.
i know everyone has certain events or movies, games, apps- that influenced who they are today. Ive been on grindr since 14. For a long long time it was the only connection between my sexuality and the life i live.
maybe one day ill share some of the stories and traumas I’ve collected from this app. it can turn into a life and death situation if your discernment & discretion lack experience & deciphering energy.
this screen shot, while the inspiration for this post… is pretty tame, run of the mill.
i had originally posted this somewhere else but it was removed due to “We do not allow the release of people’s private information, including their text messages unless you can show you have permission to display them. This is a creative writing sub, not a sub for personal correspondence.
and personally that was the most hypocritical thing i had ever read in my life. Especially when the person texting me has 0 identifying in these photos. anyways undead, hardly fed, broken bed, men amed dred. Akmed & truw