Dumb

I hate being so needy and moody. I hate letting things get under my skin this way but I can't seem to stop it. It just eats at me.

-

Things I thought while crossing the Golden Gate Bridge

Heart on the floor, hand in the air

I dream about you at night sometimes,
dream about a life I'll never get to enjoy,
of neuroses I've shed, joints I've reformed,
emotions I've mastered, of a heart so close,
so painfully close to exploding from joy,
and I spend the day after, sad and morose,
searching the internet for a connection,
for a way to feel connected, reading "how
I came out" stories, and I just end up feeling
even more alone than when I started, even
though I've never really had to come out,
and it's never mattered, not even to my
parents. I've never had to deal with any
real negative consequences, just a broken,
hobbled little heart that's always laying
under your feet, waiting.