THC Meets Poetry

It Ends Here

I spent so many years with my voice trapped in the back of throat. Drowning in the silence. I wanted to have a voice but I just couldn't seem to find it. I was made to feel that the things I valued most didn't mean shit, and so at this point in my life I would rather vent to the bong that I'm about to hit.
Now that I have obtained a voice, I honestly just feel that using it is wasting my breath. Spewing careful words until there are no more left. The stress of begging to be heard is eventually going to send me into cardiac arrest.

I've been fed broken promises by trusted companions that I struggle to digest. I sit at the edge of my bed trying to process, but I just feel far too fucking depressed. I try to lay down instead, but the emotions are weighing too heavy on my chest. I'm reading love letters that are meant to make me blush and smile... however I just feel empty and unimpressed. I'm not going to fall in love with you just because you confess.

I'm not going to fuck you just because I grant you the privilege of watching me undress. Don't bother coming through because I'm moving out and I don't intend on giving out the new address. Try not to get too upset about it or you may just end up making yourself look crazy and obsessed. Just accept the fact that there are going to be things about me that will be left unexpressed. I'm through taking everyone's compatibility test.

I'm tired of being people's temporary high. They're newest hyperfixation, but I somehow always manage to fall for their persuasion. I sign the contract of commitment without knowing all of the necessary information, and then end up once again throwing myself against the wall in frustration.

But I'm turning away from all this temptation as I bathe in salvation. I'm revoking my adoration for those who only stood by my side for the lustful sensations, reassurance and validation. They don't deserve my admiration. I look into their eyes and see their desperation, but I'm indifferent about it. If they want my love they can have a seat and fill out an application. 

I'll look over the paperwork later. I'm currently occupied with my own imagination. I honestly couldn't care less about those eagerly waiting for me in anticipation. Once they cum I won't receive aftercare or even verbal appreciation. I'll once again fall asleep in the ghostly embrace of touch starvation.

Really I would rather just be alone. Intentionally neglecting my phone. Staying in the smoke zone. Lookin like a million dollars and smelling of delicious cologne. I'm reaching a new milestone. I've taken back my life and have made it my own. No longer fearing the unknown.

I've been broken over the past for too long. Listening to the same damn breakup songs and pondering what went wrong.

Asking questions as if I don't already know the answers. As if I haven't been through this shit before. Truth is, I just haven't ever really wanted more. I would say that I did, but then turn around and complain about how the action steps towards it felt like some boring chore. My head has been stuck in the clouds and I need to be tied down to the floor. Big changes are coming and I can already feel it starting to shake my core.

Call me an asshole and I'll where the title with pride. If you still see me as the same man from before, then kindly remove yourself from my life because that person has died. Those holding onto the man that I was can happily face my backside as I walk away in a sassy gay stride.
They asked for more and I tried, but it wasn't enough for them so now I'm saying goodbye. Fuck you because I have God by my side, and he is an excellent guide.

No longer will love make me burn and bleed. No longer will I allow myself to easily trust and be deceived. They all made me believe, and ended up being liars and gas lighting fiends. So honestly they can all drown in my man made tear stream.