Underneath The Pill
Sun casts dancing silhouettes on the river
like my thoughts
as the beautiful boys pass behind me
with their undercuts
those aggressive tattooed emperors
of coffee shops
of rock music
of those ruins of my dreams.
As I lean back
I can feel something
emerging from beneath the surface.
It’s fairly huge and it becomes very quiet
just before it breaks through the still water.
It’s very familiar and it somehow
stings me with great power.
Beneath the layers of chemicals
Under those piles of pills
Right below the patches
There’s still that vulnerable
It feels inadequate
it admires and loathes the boys
behind my back
not being sure if it envies them,
feels less of a person when they’re around,
or just wants to be with someone like them.
And as this familiar thing jumps briefly above the surface,
it covers up the whole sun just for a moment
and then falls back into the deepest
of the stream.
That endless stream of thoughts
that endless stream of consciousness.
“One day,” I hear the stronger one whisper, “one day, you won’t care. And one day, you will finally understand that it’s okay not to fit in and to be the perfect boy you really are. Just remember. It takes time. I promise you.”
I finally lay down and wipe that single tear
of terrible anxiety
off my cheek.