my brother told me last night
that the only reason he won't come out
to our parents
is because he couldn't bear to see my father
beat my mother
until the light escaped her eyes
for raising a "faggot".

the sad thing is,
he's completely correct that that is how
my father would react.

when i told you that i'd fallen for you,
and you'd planted flowers
in my chest
and grew an entire garden,
all you had to say
was "how?"

i wasn't really sure,
but it felt about as deadly as being shot
in the chest —
the garden's been rained on
and every daisy drown —
because oh surely,
it's always been you.

the salty air in my lungs
and the tide under my feet;
forever keeping me afloat on these long
stormy nights.

we are boats against the current,
ceaselessly beating on and
on.

a ship in the night passing me by —
is it really such a wonder
as to why i can never
forget your name?
why you are forever on my mind
and sitting on the edge of my tongue,
awaiting the jump back to yourself
as i call after you?

my baby brother is afraid of
his own skin —
afraid of the result
of the monsters
living in the other room
who won't be able to accept him
for who is is —

who are so blinded by the fact that
he can't possibly love someone so unlike himself.

he is tragedy —
misery loves company —
and he needs a companion
who understands him entirely.

and i need a companion who holds me up;
how selfish
can i be?

you are the boat, and i,
the anchor.
you hoist me up from the depths,
only to be thrown aback
from the weight of this helplessness.

i am lost hope,
sinking down to the bottom
of this wretched sea;

break my chain and
save yourself.


ple