your thoughts and mine
Yesterday, and the day before: I didn't think of you at all. But today, I punched a door, and you appeared behind it. You walked faster, I went slow I stared at the ground And wondered how you still make my heart Pump so slightly faster But this time, out of fear Even though the worst you've ever said was “queer” I knew you can still be so fucking violent. That one day in Livermore, someone called me faggot You scolded them, then glanced at me— I thought you were looking for approval, but maybe, secretly, you agreed.