Here I am,
Standing in front of a blurred vision of reality,
Wondering if my spot in the world is tarnished.
I have longed for the sweet things in life too long,
But the drama that floods up my life is a prevention,
And I am so close from that heavenly taste of French vanilla ice cream.

2007 began with a blow and a slap in the face,
And I began to ask the question of “who the heck am I” because I have seemed to have lost sight of my identity.
Grandma doesn’t know what I’m going through but says if I look in the mirror,I’ll see my father,
But I refuse to look at what I have become,
Knowing that I’ll see daddy being the inconsiderate bum that he is,
And he just turned 50,
and I didn’t acknowledge Happy B-Day to him.
I wonder before I sleep that I better find myself soon,
Having the fear that I won’t ever wake up one of these nights.

I live my life being the best person I can be,
But demons get me to thinking that I have failed as a person,
As a poet,
That I am at the lowest level of imperfection.
I remember all last year I rocked open mics on Thursday nights,
But now I am dead,
Being a face no one recognizes.

To take a path religionwise personally is not in my agenda or now.
In my heart,
I believe in Christ,
But having to take a burn in church or having a Bible thrust in the air makes the phrase “Love one another” to be unbelievable and invalid somehow.
I almost messed myself up when trying to make the decision of coming out to my best friend of ten years,
Thinking that he was gonna cut me loose,
But instead he told me to be who I am,
And it was then that I promised to never lie to myself.
On the other hand,I have a best friend who dreams of being a fashion designer and is homophobic.
How the heck can I tell him what’s going on with me?

Sometimes I feel as if I need to light a cigarette to cease these disturbances……and I don’t smoke.
Those who persecute me think that I am their toilet,
Dumping out words towards my face,
And I know they don’t give a dang,
But they should keep that stuff in that meaningless contraption they call a brain.

Through the repeated cycle of sunrise and sunset,
It gets a little easier.
I’m probably the only person that has experienced the pain of not wanting to sleep at night,
And not wanting to get up in the morning.
I have a blurred vision of reality.
Wondering if my spot in the world is tarnished.
Sweet things in life I have wished for,
But have been prevented,
And I just want to get there,
To that place where life is bliss,
That heavenly taste of French vanilla ice cream.