Humans Are Silly Little Things. They Make Up Higher Beings In Their Minds So That Death Doesn’t Seem

Let me be a moth with soft papery wings.

The moon my muse, in the witching hours.

Only the strange can see my beauty.

When I die,

Bury me in the forest.

There will be no need for visiting me.

I have found home with the foliage.

The shame of living will disappear as my body becomes the earth.

Societal Norm

I've spent most of my life trying to fit into the 'societal norm'. Gods is it awful. Say this, do this, dress to impress..

Don't curse, please watch what you eat, black is the devil's color..

Get down on your knees and pray to Jesus when all is going wrong, you need to find a man to marry before you spread your legs, sundresses and bright colors..

I'll get down on my knees to pleasure who I wish, it will be sinful. I sleep with who I wish and it will not only be men. If my graphic black shirts offend, well good for me.

I do not believe in your 'God'. I am one of those gays you despise.

Guess what??

I do not exist to please anyone but myself.

I'm doing a damn good job of it too.

Kindly avert your attention elsewhere, while I do whatever I want.

I rightly don't give a single fuck about your comfort.

I remember the day I bought two yellow roses.

I went to your grave and placed the roses atop your gravestone. I sat beside you and talked about a few memories we had shared. I cried tears of joy because I knew you weren’t in pain anymore. The tears turned to sadness though. I asked to you please take care of the child I never got to meet. I think I may have said something about heaven. That’s where everyone believed you had went. You said you saw angels a few days before you passed on. I would never speak ill about you, but I think that’s delusional. I truly hope you are somewhere better though, holding hands and teaching my baby to fish. I see you in every cardinal that flies by me.

I’m far too cynical to believe in heaven; I would like to see again someday though.

I speak with the moon, most nights.

I tell him my secrets and dreams.

He listens intently at all I have to say.

People may say I’m crazy, but I have the stars that witness my madness.

I believe in the moon more than any person. He doesn’t judge me for what I have to say.

If I listen closely, he speaks back to me.

He tells me of his darkness, and how no one truly sees him without the sun.

He holds a special place in my heart.

For I am also unseen in my darkness.

Love. A tiny little word, with an infinite amount of meanings. Good morning: I love you. How are you: I love you. I hope you have a great day: I love you. I see you are hurting: I love you. I thought this was funny, I need to show you: I love you. This reminded me of you: I love you. Love is in everything I say to you, when I can’t write: I love you.

I despise myself. The way I live, or rather a state of surviving until the next sunrise. I despise the way I let others speak to me. The way I choose to live. I have no will to change it though. I will disassociate my days away.

I think you knew what you were doing this whole time. I hope I don’t get hurt in the end.

I don't feel like ME anymore. If there ever was such a thing to begin with..

I’m in love with the stars. With the moon. They make appearances in my writing more often than they should. There’s something so romantic about looking into the night sky. I suppose I am a romantic at heart, who knew?