safety of homes

i haven't seen much than the road from my front door. the knot that i've clung to has come undone so i'm leaving home. balancing options, you can't offer me safety of my own. balancing options, you can't offer me a place to call my home. our old house, we grew in, it's gone and our tree house was torn down. first kisses and bus rides, those streets provided us with a sanctuary. not even our parents could give us that safety. i'd like you to beg me to stay but I need you to let me go. i'd like you to beg me to stay but I think i need some time to let myself grow. i left the best hands i have ever held for the roots, friends and sand of this desert. i wouldn't be able to stand the hurt of knowing you won't miss me, but i'm leaving home.

"MY DESIRE TO WRITE IS CONNECTED WITH MY HOMOSEXUALITY. I NEED THE IDENTITY AS WEAPON, TO MATCH THE WEAPON THAT SOCIETY HAS AGAINST ME. IT DOESN’T JUSTIFY MY HOMOSEXUALITY. BUT IT WOULD GIVE ME — I FEEL — A LICENSE." -Susan Sontag

Our hearts beat at the same tone for years, now they beat alone.

Breathe in, pretend I’m okay.

Breath out, I am not okay.