Rechargeable

Rose madder cheeks
Coral-stained parted lips
Patent leather heeled shoes
Uncomfortable for me, accommodating for them
Stretch my legs to reach their stride
A stride of 30 year old wine and dancing in my mother's heels
Lining up anodes to cathodes
And kissing their alkaline mouths with my nickel-plated tongue
Electrical current through my
Patent leather heeled shoes
Coral-stained parted lips
Rose madder cheeks

Imperfections

Gap-toothed and wide eyed, my teeth were worth bills
Until they stopped escaping and braces held them like convicts
My identity crisis broke into a wild fit of piercings and hair dye
And chased adolescence with a shot of cynicism

Peeling my training bra from my shoulders
The sun left a pink stain ten years deep
I am me, cursed with heat exhaustion
Socially black-listed due to expectation asphyxiation

White lace ideation scratches my scabby, bony knees
But still I'm convinced to want lace to cover my life
To cover my eyes
With a white picket smile in the window of a kitchen
And my love-swollen hands resting on my expectant belly

Maybe Metaphors or Similies

This would be so much easier
if you would let me know
Instead, I'll sail through lava rivers
and tear apart each layer of your soul
You have a way with difficulty
like the tango does, intricate with lust
Yet, you're the one person I don't hate writing about
That is, until I spontaneously combust

"Everything you want can be summed up in these words..."

As much as I love seeing my friends' band Ghost Mall play shows, when they play the song that was written about me, I don't like that everyone sings it to me.

Sounds silly, I know.
But it would be a nice feeling, if it weren't:

"Everyone you know is worried for your life
They say, 'Emily please take my advice.'"

Am I the only one that isn't worried for me?
It's probably how it's supposed to go.
You're always the last one to worry.

"Together we'll dance in the dark."

My life is a treadmill.
Or a moving sidewalk.
But at least with a moving sidewalk, there is some progress.
I feel out of breath & tired all of the time, but I'm still in the same fucking place I started.
Still in the same fucking place I've been for years.

Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I'm still stuck?

"Jane, get me off this crazy thing!" - George Jetson

Time to throw this piece of shit to the curb, with the rest of the unwanted home gym machines of the world.

"The script it called for rain, but it was clear that day, so we faked it"

Am I the only one that gets choked up about the LGBT community?
Every time I read an article or see something in the media about repression and intolerance, I get emotional.

I describe myself as a queer individual because I do believe in loving a person for their spirit and not their genitals or what society says their gender is.

I also believe that love knows no gender, social class, religion or race.

That's something I wish for everyone to believe.
That's a lesson I will teach my children and a lesson I hope my children will pass on as well.

"She's got herself a universe gone quickly, for the call of thunder threatens everyone"

As I filled out more work applications in the library, a guy I had met the night before at a campus program came up to me to say "hello."
I admitted that I had a crush on one of his male friends and he revealed that he had a crush on the same friend.

He started talking about the video "Sassy Gay Friend" and volunteered to be mine.

This turned into a discussion about Shakespeare and Romeo & Juliet and how terribly horrible their "love" really was.

Our whispers became exclamations as we spoke about teenagers and their need to be defiant. The "star-crossed lovers" found a commonality in their awful, privileged lives and lusted after one another. But woe is them, they couldn't have each other.
With melodrama dripping from the teens' pathetic words and promises, death is obviously the option.

We laughed a lot about repressed gay men in almost everyone of Shakespeare's plays, and even talked about how love is perceived to everyone. Every person has a different perception of reality, so their perception and definition of love is relative.

I mentioned how I believe that no relationship can truly be emotionally balanced because of this. Someone will always love harder. The only way to come close to a balanced and equal relationship is to compromise.

Strangely enough, later that night I attended a Sex Ed program sponsored by my campus' Black Student Union. A sex therapist spoke about the specific kinds of love (eros, agape, storge) and how everyone's view of lust, love, intimacy and romance are different.

I'm not sure why, but it all struck an emotional chord buried deep and I tried to not cry. It might've been because I started thinking about how much I love someone and how I feel I'll never be rid of the lingering "what if"s about our up, down & sideways relationship.

From this view point, I'm hoping to wake up one day when a sassy gay friend says, "You are a stupid bitch,"