CONFESSION OF A LONELY SOUL

I don't share enough -

Not when I could be telling the entire tale of Jason.

I want to crack open my head like a chicken's egg

& let the the blood & brains pour down to the earth

& divine my future in a stain of my humanity.

I have no secrets; that's what I say - & I mean it -

I think. No secrets in the grumblings in my stomack,

the aching in my crotch, the empty feeling where

love should be...

No secret of who I want. What I lust for... How I like

to kiss, or suck, or rim, or fuck...

No secret in the confusion I feel or the destruction I crave...

No secret that I just got home from a night drinking too much

coffee & laughing far too much with my friend Carrie, who

spoke to me softly about the good old days when we had

only to wink at a cute boy & he was ours for the night - only

afterwards were the "straight" boys confused by what had

taken place... Only then did they get drunk, deny, or

move to California.

No secret that I want to fuck no one... No secret that I long

for 1 kiss... from 1 guy...

No secret that I can't tell you if this is a wonderful time or the

worst in my life. Can't tell you if it's healthy or hurtful - not because

it's a secret - only because I don't have a fucking clue.

No secret that my friends all seem to fall apart...

No secret that I only fall for the extaordinarily fucked up,

beautiful & disturbed.

No secret that I'm only writng this to try to understand...

No secret that I'd answer any question...

Any telephone call...

Or any bat signal.

Secrets are bad...&

My place is nowhere.