When will I get it right,
Jayson?
When will
all my parts align,
like planets,
to make an eclipse,
and eclipse myself.

When will I stop hollowing
myself?

Will this new undertaking
find me
a new person to be?
Can I find her?
In leather?
On a stage.
With you at my back?

When will I decide
that Im ok?
That this is my body,
no,
that I AM a body.
Not just housed in one.
That I am somebody.
And that you love me,
and that your love for me
is not pity.

06/28/2002

Posted on 06/28/2002
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