In love, I’ve lived a half life.
My family lives exceptionally:
Think of a mom who welcomes
All the lovers of a gay son
And asks them tea.
Think of the lovers
Who live and breathe free
Partaking of my home
And most times all of me.
We are no saints though.
There are none on earth.
But there is just one
Peeps say, I am so very lucky
To get to share all of me with those
Who can never share all of theirs with me.
I am lucky to be able to give my home to those
Who keep me out of theirs.
If you look closer,
You will see,
I am no saint:
Being selfless isn’t morality.
Both dead to the world
If only my brain would cease to function
Like theirs does
On call, sleep.
Worry gnaws my inside
And crawls into my brain
Like a –
Slug in slow motion.
But sleep comes to them so easy
Like their brains never functioned
And their hearts never felt.
It must be nice to never know a slug.
I thought childhood would last forever
But it does so only in memory.
It hit me in hindsight of sex and love,
With thoughts of the death allotted to me.
My childhood friend lost her life today.
She was one I shared innocence with
And a time that had nothing to do
With loss, determination or grit.
I thought then butterflies flew forever.
Animals were never shot down for fun.
I’ve grown up now and seen prejudice kill
And blinded hatred win life’s distance run.
Things are no longer coloured for me.
They’ve all turned a hazy shade of grey.
If only I could bring assurance back,
Or have a modicum of childhood stay.