Tell me, where has my intimacy gone?
Where does it translate? Why does it twist my tongue? Where is the scripture for it?

It’s in my bones but I can’t strip it out and showcase it. Is that protection? Do my muscle and tissue keep it confined within me?

Then maybe it hasn’t gone anywhere. Maybe it can’t become a carbon copy for another because my print is so sacred.

But why can’t my shoulders fit along the seem? Why can’t the gears grinding methodically inside my head be the parts of the mass production?

I was hand-carved and strung and wired then left to wind and tick without instruction. So, then. Tell me, how do I chime?

To rephrase more accurately: Tell me, where can I let my intimacy go?

even if your name
doesn't match the one on your drivers licence
or birth certificate:
be proud

even if your pronouns
aren't the ones they use at
family gatherings or birthday parties:
be proud

even if the one you love
isn't the one you're with:
be proud

even if who you are
isn't who you want to be
right now:
be proud

even if people
don't understand
and still use slurs:
be proud

even if you have to fight
to stay visible:
be proud

even if you're not okay:
be proud

No more aces up my sleeve

I've ran out magic tricks to play with you

I'm tired.

So watch me disappear

No smoke and mirrors here

When I told you that I dig you
You were scared and shared
That you did not want to do it
And you were at all not prepared

So why not try to diss me
And maybe it will be sometime
When I see you I feel nervous
And my anxiety escapes the undersurface

You did not ace your respective game
And let me be ashamed
My friends cheered my courage
And then felt my pain
I didn’t want to see you
Because I’d blush again

So I finally let you go

As the other devil came
And I will see when we are done
If you’ll ever come back
In the memories, in my brain

a different love
platonic and familial
but never ******