terpsichorean wanderlust

it feeds you,

it feeds you

the simple feeling

the veins completing

               the cycle

                     repetitous

blood rushing to keep up

sanity necessary

as ears

stained pink.

everything to you dear

deep and ordinary

bears another scar

i wish to ignite

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creative writing writing poetry poem simplicity ignorance

coming out

there is so much i want to say,

but i don’t want to shout it through a loudspeaker,

i don’t want the drama

and the gasps, the courageous collapse,

i want it to just be known,

understood and understated

amongst the crowd, saving the tortured

glances for the next catastrophe.

.

except that i am not a catastrophe

and my lips are no biography

unprecedented relief would be the ordinary

continuing to be just that

unprecedented relief would be

nothing outwardly changing

and even more so, that

it makes no difference to me

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creative writing writing poem poetry coming out lgbt

poetry is a kind of euthanasia

Poetry is     my immune system exhaling,

Poetry is     an incoherent bubble of energy unfolding,

Poetry is     a tornado floating down my spine,

Poetry is     a stubborn refusal of regulation,

Poetry is     an everlasting sigh following the end,

Poetry is     an over-exaggeration at the core

Poetry is     a unity of doubt and arrogance

Poetry is     a refutation of objective truth,

Poetry is     a weaponised honesty

Poetry is               my own

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creative writing poem poetry

I am a writer because living as I am is not enough, even falling

head first into books is not enough, because I am stuck hanging

with a foot wrapped around each reality, my head in the balance

of self-doubt; I need to skydive daily, scarcely blinking but always

somewhere else, I am a writer because     I am a narcissist;

I translate trivial observations and disasters, I am too weak

to not share my sickly thoughts; they spill and twist to the beat of conversations

I don’t understand and don’t attempt to, I am

a writer because it is my survival instinct, my coping mechanism,

my necessary vice

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creative writing writing poetry poem writer

you see the problem with

politeness, cliche and

the “easy way out” is that

i don’t want to still be friends

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creative writing poem poetry

my first memory sings

precocious philosophical ponderings

of three; involving the pure,

genuine astonishment

that i so envy, the originality

of a first thought

now long surpassed.

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creative writing poem poetry memory originality first