I need to know.

Will you still love me by tomorrow?

Can your hands hold mine and stall the tremors in my wrists?

Do your lips remember the way mine taste in the early morning before we get up for work?

Have you forgotten the warmth of the sun as it kissed my bare skin in sandy hotel rooms?

Sometimes I feel like an amnesiac, reliving every moment on my own. Wondering if they happened in the first place, or if these are the stories you tell me to keep me at peace.

I need to know,

Will you still love me by tomorrow?

when I was 12 years old I realized

that maybe I didn't just like boys

that hey my best friend is really pretty

and my heart beats faster when she

holds my hand

when I was 13 I kissed that girl

(it was my first kiss)

and I finally decided to say out loud

that I am bisexual

I finally realized that liking girls

is okay

despite what others might feel or say

when I was 14

I started to love who I am

I realized that hey, maybe I'm asexual too

I met other people who loved the way I do

and I surrounded myself by a community

who loved me despite who I loved

who loved me for who I loved.

I went to pride for the first time

but

when I was 14

I woke with a heavy heart in me chest

with the sounds of gunshots and lives lost

ringing in my ears for hours, days, weeks

as I was informed

that 49 of my brothers and sisters

had been killed.

for what I do everyday of my life

for loving and celebrating who they are

for not being afraid

when I was 14

fear that I worked so hard to banish

started to creep in as

I had begun to fear my own safety

for loving the way I do

at 14

I came to the realization that hatred

has become too powerful.

but how do we fight back with love

if that's exactly what we are getting killed for doing?

It's almost obscene. I cannot understand why she cannot remember to leave off dusting my room. I cannot stand the mismatched rearrangement of my life. The CDs stacked neatly, but haphazardly, their spines all helter skelter. How can she expect me to play my music if I can't find the right disc? And don't get me started on my knick knack shelf. The faerie maiden is next to the ogre when she should be in front of the winged warrior, and next to the hatchling dragon. and the laundry. T shirts folded with odd lines, as if they were trying to break free and be loose. I don't think she understands the craziness in my mind. Must organize, reorder and rearrange my life. Chaos cannot prevail.

Finally free. The wedding. The insane nail lady attaching claws with spaces on my short, neat nails. They will be hard to deal with, but all for the price of the biggest party of my life. Ivory raw silk, starchy but immobile, so I can be certain not to crease or mar my photos. But at the end of the night freedom.

Twenty one years and it's a disaster. I must have order. Shoes left under the coffee table, laundry on the chair. I must organize. Clean the closet, clean the dishes, pick up, pick up, put right back. Undo, redo and stack. It's a terrible disease when friends stop by. Don't move the remote or the bottle of wine, and please keep your fork directly in line. And please, put my dragon back.

I smile, it looks happy.

Everyone thinks I'm happy

Everyone believes I'm happy.

But you, you saw.

I cried, sweet big droplet tears.

Everyone rushed around to pat me up

Told me to smile and "be happy" again.

Only you saw my malice, only you backed up.

I don't know why I'm attracted to you.

You are ruining my greatest act.

You're wrecking the Oscar nomination level acting by just staring at me

looking at me.

Seeing me through the mask.

But I want you to stay.

I'm so tired of acting,

of pretending,

of playing.

I'm sick of making sure that my mask is in place,

before I open my eyes.

before I open my mouth.

before I open my heart.

Won't you...stay?

I promise, even if all you give me is silence.

I'll be glad, sleeping beside you truly content.

Knowing that you can see my true cracked face sleeping.

Ladder rungs

Left bruised flesh

From sliding down

To hell

Black wound tender

Drove to insanity

And twisted hate

Eternal

I have a secret

I can't tell you here...

I can tell you in the alley over there...

It sounds really Shady

But i have this crazy thing I do

Oh,

Y-you have it too?

Well, my friend Trevon had this weird thing he did with metal

And he kinda stopped halfway when he was caught off guard with hollow tipped kryptonite

Martin Luther King junior practiced his power as well,

And he had an aura that made people hate his kind for nonviolence

Im beginning to think that these powers...

Are more of a curse.

Each generation had a different variation

But it always aims to hurt us

My generation has the gift of social anxiety

Being able to leap over high expectations

And able to dodge and weave from any conversation with ease.

I'm a super human

But I'm not human

At the same time.

Awkward situations are my sidekicks

And happiness is my enemy

Since I could never feel free enough to

Join his side.

I am different

I am the socially inept

I

Am

A human being in the 21st century