Pasted Together Men

The little lamb with red hooves. Sheared too close. The partitions of the darkness. Wind and moon in riddles of indulgence. Little men in hungry poses searching for their underwear. Treasure chests spilling open as I get the closer.

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How I want to be. How I am.

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Chosen. But not kept.

The thump of people in my pulse.

Remember Me

Forget Us

The past like sheers on the window. Turning the light into pretty colors it never was. A cardboard keel for a paper boat. In an ocean of men. In an excuse I'm tired of. Being yourself is not your right. It's a privilege.

There aren't enough women to give your life meaning. Nor few enough to make it intentional. You've nothing to fall back on. Because you are who you are. Good luck to you.

You're right. No one should change you.

That burden is yours.

There's the bomb. And then there's the place it hits. We aim, but often miss.

I paste my loves together from the scraps I have. I've pasted together countless utopias from the arrogance of men. You're no different.