by Chris

Screaming inward
Surreal images emotions
Thoughts, anger at nothing
Jonathan lingering inside
Never will I have his sweet skin
mine within
Love or lust still
Confusing my twisted reality.

In newsstands bookstores
Magazine racks
Those cold calculating eyes
Staring ad infinitum
Into my own.

All I see or think of
Never equal the quality of he
And never create the potential
of we
My head soul never to empty
Of these sick deadening feelings
Trapped concealed
Drifting unexplainable
In my head
and body.

December 31, 1995.
Chris is a 19-year-old student who enjoys writing short stories, poetry, and cycling.
General information: Jeff Walsh
Design and HTML: Jase Pittman-Wells
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