Musings of an Angry Gay Boy | Poetry and Other Writings

I got a DM from a friend   I had sent her some post about   Not fawning after people   who don’t make it clear they like you She said I deserve someone who treasures me… But what treasure am I?   What am I worth? Is there any part of me worth treasuring? These pestilent questions echo inside my skull Reminding me of how I can’t feel loved Telling me I won’t be loved Because I’m not worth it. Why were these my first thoughts? Who has broken me to the point of nebulousness? What happened inside me that all I hear   are these voices that degrade me? If I deserve someone who treasures me Then why do I feel like tarnished gold Tossed into the mud, Never to shine again My brilliance stolen from me by time’s antics My dullness bestowed to me by life’s chances   I deserve someone who treasures me… But what treasure am I?

The gloominess of the day        attracting feelings of a warm cup,           coffee in hand, memory on our lips. Conversing with a friend,      by the brick wall of our favorite shop           reminiscing in memories but rarely                creating new ones. Why would I rather sit and recall?      Over experiencing new adventure? Adventure that can be embraced for a moment,      can live on for a lifetime in memory The simple joys of this life,      rarely outshine the big adventures For it is often in the simple times we sit      and relish life’s greatest ventures The thoughts, last so much longer      than the single moment           from which they stemmed   However, without the thrill of a single moment,      there is...

To think a man so full of fear so brave and courageous For bravery is exactly that,   doing the scary thing in defiance of fear Growing up and diving into deep waters of sobering adulthood drowning in the anxiety swimming in the reality   of the world around me Mulling over shame,   Grinding the courser elements of life and love Into the finer pieces of dynamic and emotion   the process defined   Imbued by the courage it takes to undertake To think a man so full of fear so brave and courageous Of course he is, what else could he be? The fear is the vehicle but not the outcome Shame is the road but not the destination For what other place could that vehicle on that road go? I’m not sure I want the answer to that question…   For me I choose to believe that bravery and courage   are the only viable destinations.   In spite of my fear,   my actions have driven me,   Inf...