To The Man I Loved

I had a dream I meant something to you;

I know it was a dream because of the cruelty of the awakening,

The betrayal that I felt upon opening my eyes,

The searing knifelike pain of knowing the feeling of your fingers on my spine

Was merely my brain working overtime for something it could not afford.

 

I had a dream that you memorialized me in your art;

I glowed beautifully in your gaze, danced across your visions,

Your hunger for me, nothing but me, the idea and reality of me, kept me alive,

Your belief in talents I didn’t know I possessed gave me strength,

So much I could have backflipped through time and space to please you.

 

I woke to find my body, my real body, my imperfect body as it was;

I could no longer do the things you might have asked of me.

I couldn’t think myself worthy to meet your gaze,

I wanted to fuse all my parts together to make one abstract glob of self;

Something you might look upon in admiration.

 

Your perfect boy.

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I Dreamed a Trailer

When I have bursts of creativity, often they don’t manifest themselves in the form of outlines or story arcs: I think of enough specifics to sell the film as a movie trailer, and imagine a soundtrack. Like this one, for instance: I have no idea what the rest of the movie would be like or if I’ll ever finish it, but it sure sounds great to me. Let me know what you think.

 

Continue reading “I Dreamed a Trailer”