Get out of my head

It's easy enough isn't it?

Just block them out.

Pretend they're not real. They don't exist.

Don't think twice.

They are the other. The outsiders. The unfamiliar.

It's easy to block them out and imagine they are somewhat less than you are.

Faceless. Heartless. Immoral.

Evil and unclean.

Their destruction would be a justified and holy act.

Their continued existence would be an anathema.

Or worst still. They don't even register.

Your radar remains mute.

There is nothing to notice. Nothing more important than yourself.

Other people don't count.

Even those closest to you barely register a blip on your screen.

Other people are outside. They are the other.

No matter how hard you try. You cannot know who they are.

No matter how much they reveal, they will always remain hidden.




Basically. Essentially. When you get down to it.

What I'm trying to say is. In the gayest, most poetic way possible.

No matter how hard you try.

And no matter how much you think you know.

You will never, ever truly know someone.

And they will never, ever truly know you.


Other people will always be removed and apart from what you are.

And that's a large part of what makes life interesting.

them

as i walk down the street i can hear their stares.

what are they staring at me?
why do they keep looking at me?
is it something i am wearing, do i have something on my clothes?
can they see my erection?

anxiety soon takes over and i notice my breathing is irregular. trying to get your breathing back to normal when you consciously recognize it is like trying not to cum when you are about to orgasm. it is possible but us average folk can not control it.

i am able to breathe slowly. for every one breath that makes it through, i choke on three. the lump in my throat gradually shrinks until my breathing is back to normal. my attention now switches to the paranoia of the people passing me by.

i continue to walk and avoid eye contact. if, for a split second my eyes lock with a stranger's eyes, my gaze goes directly to my shoes and i continue to walk.

this continues until i see a gorgeous girl walking towards me. gorgeous meaning that she is a girl i would have the courage to talk to. a smirk forms in the corner of her mouth and my eyes meet hers. being shy i quickly look down to my feet but muster up the courage to look back at her and return the smile. we walk by each other, both smiling but nothing else is said.

i continue to think about her smile while i walk.

after passing me she thinks to herself, "i wonder if he knows i am a lesbian?"

More People

The Proud Addict

A caricature.

Compensating for a lack of substance

with substances.

Denying reality by substituting another.

Cannot make sense

so become senseless.

Celebrate self-inflicted demise

and call it a party.

Drinking from the punchbowl of death

in a slow, cultish, mass-suicide.

Solace in knowing the outcome:

death by own hands.

The Temptress

Muse, muse, muse again and confuse.

Flames of desire tower high and only a mist to quench.

Is the occasional whetting of the tongue worth

the burn ever-present?

It’s about control.

Only a moment here and there for her;

A brain –racing, -folding, -twisting, -turning, mind-fuck

that defines and stops time

for him.

Oh damn you, goddamn you…

What can I do for you next?

Please leave me alone

so the dejection can take hold

to restore the blandness of normalcy.

Random Poem

The Skank

Asking nothing of your soul or emotions

the skank is there for you to fuck.

What isn’t at risk cannot be lost.

She has lost too many times before.

Her trying heart took a pounding

harder than her dignity and snatch.

She fills her void of love with cock

and the seed of possibility.

Like the potential of life shot on her face,

hers is also wasted.

Slowly dripping away,

turning cold and hard;

the threat of life is avoided.