Maybe i need to lower my standards.
Figure my shit out before i do anything.
When i see other people with their friends,
It's not jealousy; more an anguish.
Deep, deep in my heart-core.
Was there some vital time i missed?
Living with other men places me deep.
Deep in the hegemony that i've always
longed for yet never been a part of.
Yearning.
To heal my inner child.
the othered, the outcast, friendless.
What about myself do i need to change?
Should i want to fuck women?
Should i make comments about their bodies?
Fail to see my flaws in rejection?
That failure i have known.
but love and thought has since
made at least transparent
the veil over my eyes.
A film of retrospective analysis and realization,
where it's always too late to go back.
The gap widens.
And I'm lost and alone.