I’m Not That

My life has been guided

More by what I’m not

Than what I am.

I’m not a woman, and

I’m not that kind of man.

Only recently have I started to think

That I’m not even a lesbian.

I am enjoying being heterosexual

So much, with so little effort

It must be a sign of some sort

That I’m that, but also

Most of the queers my age I’ve met

Are the saddest, most empty people

Just like anyone who seeks money

Sex, status and power to fulfill

Their life goals. I am not that

I am not like these power hungry people

I am not a person, at this point

I have to come to terms with the fact

That I am a flowering plant who got

Stunted and now I’m

Hermie-ing, my petals turning

To nut sacks, my brain stressed

My body broken and changing and

My seeds aren’t even formed yet.

I am not like everyone else and

There must be a reason for that

I need to persist and survive despite

The odds deep in my veins, breaking my back.

I’m rotted, gutted and curled up

I am god’s project that she

Screwed up and started from scratch

I am angry, and I’m starting to worry

That I am that more than I am anything else

I am disgusted by everyone, my vision

Blurred and exploding with disdain

I am a man of constant sorrow and pain

I am not interested in competing

I am searching for distance bewteen

Myself and everything, everything that

I am not, that

I am not just existing for pain and grief

I am destined for great things

Eventually I will see that and

The world will seem less tumultuous

When I’m done pretending it’s okay

To try and be something when everyone tells you

Who to be, where, when and what day.


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