Me on the rocks instead of the stand

perspiration falls
from my chin
to your chest
"don't worry"
and you make me laugh

 

the baggage
belittling and judging
judging, judging
demeaning speech
it must be my fault
so you throw out that case
in the back of my closet
that I bled into
for seventeen months

 

the confidence given
comes back from where taken
and I feel for the first time
that a man can be cared for
without making him
a pitiful boy
worth despising

 

from the smell of my skin
and the sound of my voice
to the way that I touch you
like nobody else
a compliment to me
and the person I am
not the person that I
'could' turn out to be

 

you place my head on your chest
when I'm not holding you
and for the first time
in my whole life
I feel like I'm cared for
the way that I've longed for
while never having to ask

Reviews

[Gastroc.]

i love you.

and this was a great poem -- that i bled into for seventeen months. rawr.