Two poems by Josh Westbrook

Blue Desert Oasis

there is a place I hide
a place I exist alone
a place where I take control
and decide what lie to live today

is it mindnumbing normalcy . . .
just being a yes-man
saying yes sir and yes ma'am
doing what the powers that be instruct
no personality, no substance . . .

is it crazy flamboyance . . .
painting my nails black
blasting dance music
in a hidden world where
only I exist
adding "honey" and "dear"
to the end of all my sentences
backing up to let the queen inside
free to prance to the forefront of my life

or is it succumbing to the pain . . .
staring at the ceiling for hours
never pulling my dead body
out of bed
or throwing on the old faded memories
of a past life and driving out
to the old places that make me cry

my desert oasis
my home away from hell
my life in the drab darkness
of a twisted mind

so I sit under my dead tree
in my desert oasis
deciding what lie to live today
and finding that nothing fits
and nothing feels real
so I pull the sheets over my head
and exist alone in my flannel wonderland
with a bad back
and horrid dreams of a blue desert oasis
where I don't have to choose
which lie to live today

I just sit
under my dead tree
watching the stars
smear across the black sky
in my blue desert
digging my toes into the purple sand
watching the cool midnight breeze
blowing purple tornadoes that vanish
seconds after their conception

I close my eyes and
there is my blue desert oasis
my black starry sky
and that cool midnight air
and no problems can find me
no enemies can hurt me
no lovers can save me
and no hurt can be felt
just a world on pause
a blurry simplistic existence
a make believe world
where you will never find me

I, Joshua Claibourne Westbrook

I seem to be nurturing
a futile state of existence
a fractured frame of mind
and an ignorant adolescent viewpoint
or so it would seem . . .

I desire love, but not the sex
I crave attention, but not the accolades
and I seek understanding, but not the acceptance

so I, Joshua Claibourne Westbrook
the strong fag who needs no one,
is now lonely
the silent introvert who suddenly
feels the need to conform,
is depressed
the scared little boy who has
found himself in the body of a man
is now lost

so I, Joshua Claibourne Westbrook
must now decide
only the desires of others
do not fulfill my emptiness
and I do not want a
one night love affair
and I am afraid of
reaching out to let him hold
me, and soothe the anger
I hide beneath the
smiling facade of that which is
Joshua Claibourne Westbrook

so I, Joshua Claibourne Westbrook
sit silently soothed by the synthesized
symphony of loneliness and denial
I have forced myself to exist in
and still I hide in my room
music blaring, candles lit
counting the cracks in the ceiling
ignoring the fact that
to stand still is not to maintain
a position
but to watch the world pass you by

Josh Westbrook

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