sk

writer’s block
it’s all your fault
me telling you
my deepest secret
made me lose my will to do the one thing
i can always do.
write.
i have no idea what to type any more
nothing sounds right
or seems right
everything has all come tumbling down.
into a pile
at the end of my bed
a pile of us playing gypsies at age 6
a pile of your words
your tears
my tears
i cannot write because of this pile
it keeps me awake
even this piece
doesn’t sound right
maybe because my brain cannot comprehend your lack of acceptance
for me being bi
your lack of ability to understand my love
for everyone
your fear for me
your fear of me
i don’t even know what
your fear of me
would be
losing me?
because you’ve already done that
losing us?
well you’ve already done that too
your awkward smile the first time i saw you after telling you
i knew it was over
we were over
it was all over
you.
me.
everything.
done.
kaput.
finished.
in a pile.
at the end of my bed.