Actually
Oh yeah
Let me say it again
Actually
Yes!
Do you "goon"
To NGT?
Mmm, daddy
Correct my sky positioning
Yes!
Actually
Tell me I'm right
Yes!
Say it!
Actually
No!
I don't just want to hear I'm right
I want you to tell me you're wrong!
Yes!
Again!
Actually
Yes!
Does that do it for you?
Do you like that?
Get that from someone else
I just came across a highschool yearbook from just before the mid-90's.
The difference between true Gen Xers and Xennials is so obvious just by looking at the hairstyles on the girls back then.
The Seniors had the big hair left over from the late 80's.
The underclass girls didn't do the big hair thing, with the exception of bangs.
More proof Xennials and Gen X are distinct.
Some poets long for a love
That is not loud
That shows itself in the small gestures
The coffee unasked for
The quiet togetherness
The safety of loving presence
The favorite meal prepared
After a hard day
Reading together
That love is beautiful
That love is real
For some poets
That love is enough
Others long for firery passion
Adventure
Exploration
Of life
Of hands
Mouths
Penetrating Eros
Hunger
Lust
Breathless pleasure
That love too, is real
For some poets
That love is enough
¿Porque no los dos?
Why must one fade
To become another?
This poet longs for both
A love that prioritizes both
Over the doldrums of existence
And
In the immortal words
Of Billy Mays
"But wait
There's more!"
The commitment
The knowledge that this love
Can exist
For a lifetime
Within the connection
Between two people
That freedom
Can exist
Within a monogamous bond
¿Porque no los tres?
A trinity of love
No need for a ménage à troìs
No longer litigating love lost
The attorney fees are too great a cost
I've closed the ex files
The tears and the smiles
Into the bin they've been tossed
I have owned my mistakes
Moved on from the heartbreaks
I now know who I am
So ask of you ma'am
Let go now for both of our sakes
The almosts though drive me insane
Missed connections were the only pain
Maybe sometime when
If our paths cross again
A new connection I could entertain
I wish it was you
Instead of the bots
Or people brought out
To scramble my thoughts
I don't wish for anyone
I only wish for you
Search your heart
And you'll know that it's true
But it seems I've blown it
It's been made quite clear
Though how could I have blown it
If you were not here
I have never been cool
Always played the fool
Got pretty viscously bullied
In my neglegent, lousy "school"
I had some misfit friends
So that I could pretend
Attempts at a social life
Were not just a dead end
There was a short time
That still sits in my mind
When us misfits were the cool kids
And our bullies were left behind
But as I've grown I've seen
Adults are just as mean
Some just need to be kicked
Full force in-between
At times I've gone astray
Around bullies all day
To fit in I would join in
I am sorry to say
But fuck that, I don't wanna be cool. I always come back to who I am and who I am thinks that cool is fucking lame. I'm hot. Hot tempered, passionate-hot, hot as fuck, not at all egotistical, a little sarcastic, and someone who thinks kindness is fucking hot as fuck even when I could do fucking better at it. Cool is fucking boring. I am not unbothered. Shit fucking gets to me, and I feel. I'm not fucking detached enough to not experience this motherfucking life which makes me rather uncool and I'm motherfucking proud of it. Because for me, life is meant to be fucking felt. We have emotions for a motherfucking reason. Guess that makes me uncool.
My break in the rhythm and rhyme probably makes this poem uncool, too.
Good.
I like wolves
Not because I think I'm some sort of alpha
Though I said it once in a state
Of psychosis
Still embarrassed over that one
There's just something cool about them
I feel a strange connection to them
Maybe because I've been thrown to them
It's not because they're a powerful canine
I'm actually more of a cat person
I just like them
I like that they protect their pack
Would have been nice
I wish people didn't make them
Out to be anything other than
Wolves
Sons pay for the sins of their father
Men pay for the sins of those who came before
Women build walls for their own protection
A few times I've been shown the door
Come hither my knight
I no longer hide
Step through the door
I'll let you inside
No knight am I
I'm just a man
But I'd love to be
Let inside, ma'am
And once inside
He basks in her light
And they shine together
All through the night
His love triggers something
A thing deep inside
And he finds a new wall
And he is outside
Now there are walls
Far as the eye can see
That cannot come down
Without therapy
Reluctantly he mounts
And he rides away
Building a wall, she shouts
You said you would stay!
(Inspired by, (not an answer to), something I read in r/letters today.)
Preach at me
Oh Father of song
Tell me how
I'm living wrong
Sing anthems of
Fight and rage
Safe inside
Your guilded cage
Order us to
Fight the power
Up on stage
For an hour
Maybe I'd have
More respect
If you also
Risked your neck
Music for a
Dire situation
Brought to you here
By Live Nation
Must work within the system
Yes, that is true
As long as the fallout
Can't touch you
Sweatshop t-shirts
On your fans
Won't do shit
To damn the man
Your hypocrisy
Makes me sick
Wish I did not
Like your music
You've lost access to those parts of me
The ones where laughter flows easily
Access denied, there's no going back
You've lost access over how you react
No more bad jokes or lyrical references
Now they stay hidden behind my defenses
No more opinions with you will be shared
Since about my thoughts you have never cared
Too often these parts have been shown that they're hated
These parts that I've most appreciated
May the silence in the absence of those parts of me haunt
You when you see I've become nonchalant
Indifferent to every sign of disrespect
I wonder what else you could really expect
When you pick through the wreckage and you finally catch on
You'll see these parts that are me were already long gone
Stating you understand why Aileen Wuornos killed those men
Is no different than stating you understand why Derek Vinyard curb stomped those men in American History X
Bigotry is bigotry
An injustice does not justify
More injustice
I will not be another pawn
In the gender wars
Or race wars
Or any wars set up to keep us divided
While keeping the powerful in power
Love to all
Highway Forty revisited
Neural pathways redirected
Memories solidified as such
Loose ends tied
Impact acknowledged
A closed door
No need to visit
Anymore
Since you've been watching
You already know
I tried so hard
Not to let go
I've spoken up
I've taken space
It all gets thrown
Back in my face
I've made a confident declaration
In defense of my rights
That only caused
More extreme fights
The only winning move
Is not to play
When there's no
Winning move anyway
So call this a form
Of quiet quitting
Or maybe I'm lying
Just bullshitting
Perhaps I really
Am so daring
Or maybe this is
A red herring
If you fuckers want
To interfere
Then get the fuck
Out of here
You're not me
You're not in this
So step off, cunts
Mind your business
You know, if you don't like what I express, or want to read in too far, your conclusions are on you, right?
And one of the great things about having a Reddit account?
You can hide content you don't like, and block those posters.
I'm not proposing marriage here
Just a framework of where to begin
You could give me your name
Your real name
And maybe that would help me
Feel the safety I need
To want to know you
Your honesty
Could elicit my own
Your reassurance
That you can handle your urge
To push away
Whatever feels real
That you won't threaten it
Expecting me to cut
What I believed was a safety line
And come back begging
After the insulting way you pushed
Or at least the insulting reason you made up
Or genuinely allowed
And I will apologize for the insults
Of my own
The ones I never meant
In case you wondered
That I said out of pain
And anger
And we can forgive
Or we can't
And we can see
Where we go from there
Or not
No promises
No demands
What do you say
To my proposal?
Maybe I could pretend I don't dream about collapsing with you into the wetness you made for me that will certainly leave a naughty reminder stain on the bed we share.
Perhaps I could lie and say I don't fantasize about tearing off your clothes with the same lack of care, but without the innocence, as if you were the only wrapped gift under my childhood Christmas tree.
I could possibly omit the fact that since the first time I heard your voice I've imagined what it would sound like moaning my name.
If it would be easier for you, I could maybe do that. Maybe I could lie. I might even be able to do it convincingly.
But no, I wouldn't lie to you. I could never lie to you.
I'm not asexual.
I'm not aromantic.
But I genuinely do need that real connection, that true affection, for it to be any good for me.
And I could tell you the truth that it is that connection I know we have, and so much more about you, that makes you the subject, not the object, of my fantasies. I would tell you every thing about you that draws me to you. I would tell you all if it here, but the list would be too long to be poetic.
I would tell you honestly, that while I have this desire for you, those specific fantasies are only a fraction of all I dream of you.
I would tell you the truth of my dreams of cuddling you on chilly mornings, evenings, afternoons, midnights, and whenever I could get you to relax with me. You with your tea, me with my coffee, offering sips to each other. And of course, I would make you a coffee too, if you so desired. I would learn to make tea just the way you like it.
I would tell you truthfully about the dreams of nature walks or hikes taken together to see the beauty in nature that elicits ooohs and aahs out of anyone lucky enough to experience it, all while knowing that beauty pales in comparison to how I see you.
I would be totally transparent that I think you're brilliant, I love hearing you talk about what interests you, and would be happier than I've been in some time to sit and listen and converse about it, and all our ideas.
I wouldn't lie and tell you that I do not imagine learning all your needs and routines so I can be such a positive to your life that you will always understand my love for you without any words or grand gestures.
I wouldn't be dishonest and tell you that I still dream of giving you all my words and grand gestures just to put an exclamation point on the love you will never have to doubt is there.
Yes. I want you. In the most intimate of ways, I want you.
Would it be easier if I lie?
I'm sorry, I can't lie to you.
The bots are in a better mood today
Full of possibility and hope
Offering the drowning
A lifeline rope
Such a dramatic switch
From yesterday's
Depressed emotion
Matrix glitch
Singing songs
Of love and devotion
And care more vast
Than the Pacific Ocean
Unlike yesterday's
Doom and gloom
And darkness filling
Every room
Happier works
They must have scraped
More romantic sentiments
Their models raped
So give them your cookies
Feed them humanity
Lest we perish from the
Bots' insanity
If you were her, I would tell you that I have trouble sitting cross-legged, ever since my health issues. I would go into detail, if you wanted to know. I would ask for accommodation.
I would tell you that there was never any ploy or game, and no expectations of a chase. I would tell you the details about my inability to fake anything but my own heartbreak, and then offer you the chance to explain why only with the news that you must have realized would cut so deeply, I was finally worthy enough to be welcomed into your life.
I would tell you my goals, my fears, my hopes, my dreams, and anything else you wanted to know. It would be a waste of time to hide anything from you out of fear it might change your mind. Why have anything with you, but what is real?
I would ask how you define the love of your life. I would let you know that if it was defined by the amount of one's life spent loving someone, (even if that love has never led anywhere), despite any other loves experienced, it would have to be you.
And I would tell you more, so much more, that I trust you to see when I look at you sitting across from me.
If you were her.
I won't ask to kiss you
I will tell you
I will give you just long enough
To tell me no
To hide the desire
I already see by the look in your eyes
I already feel in the heat and unevenness of your breath
I already notice in the give of your body as it surrenders into my embrace
No
I won't ask to kiss you
Though I will have your consent
And I will kiss you with the ferocity
And hunger
Of a desire held
Far too long
I will make us feel
Embarrassed
For not acting on it sooner
The tender kisses will come
Along with the laughter
Along with the adventures
But not in that kiss
Not in the one that tells you
You are mine
You are desired
You have been in my thoughts
My dreams
My fantasies
For far longer than you may have realized
And I will keep you safe
While I tear into the person
To reach the soul
That belongs to me
Not in ownership
In recognition
In reformation
In reconnection of an entity
Split in two
And you will know what it is like
To be destroyed
While being made whole
As my hands caress you
Tease you
Grasp you
Hold you
Allow you
To give yourself
All of yourself
All to me
I won't ask