Sudden Strangers

Such beautiful people;
remarkably strong…

They don’t live forever
and never stay long…

They brush up against you
then kiss you goodbye…

And that’s if you’re lucky
enough to know why.

They make you feel something
and then disappear…

Their absence is painful;
their presence was dear…

This price we all pay
is a heartrending cost…

The feelings we feel
when loved ones are lost.

Written By Jason Wright
October 12, 2011

THE WRITING

What it’s all about
is there on the wall…

Each letter I type
is a tear that won’t fall…

Each tear is a story;
Each word is a blessing…

Do I really see them
or am I just guessing?

The visions I see:
a man singing sweetly…

With talent that shakes you
and takes you completely…

The man is singing
his beautiful pain…

In my own quiet way
I’m doing the same…

And it heals me to see
that such pain can convict him…

Screaming through poetry;
I’m not a victim.

I write about life,
of sex and of death…

The darkness inside
is what I love the best…

For Michael
and my horrible choices…

For David
and his beautiful voices…

For people I meet at random
while watching…

The writing is back
and shows no signs of stopping.

Written by Jason Wright
September 24, 2011

For the record, the art was supposed to be view from my heart, looking down, seeing my ribcage and such. It was clearly based more on a feeling than any anatomy or science! lol

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

The previous week
and he was demolished…

A wave of destruction
that left them abolished…

And the light in his eyes
is pain sheened in laughter…

That light in the darkness
could lead to disaster…

But that light reminds me;
combines us together…

Commonality comforts;
so hard to surrender…

And the sound of his songs
and the taste of his lips…

The touch of his hand
wrapped in my fingertips…

And the way that he smiled
with such controversy…

For Bauhaus and Siouxie
and Sisters of Mercy…

The way that he watched me
and wanted and waited…

The curves of his lips
left my own fear abated…

We were both still destroyed
yet acknowledged and known…

For that moment the lonely
learned they weren’t alone…

He gave me that magic
and time somersaulted…

Wave of destruction;
enraptured and halted…

True we’re destroyed
and under construction…

Yet can’t help but smile
at our introduction.

Written by Jason Wright
September 21, 2011

For David Hull

Momentous Moments

The crow at your door
surprised me…
a vision…

Could not comprehend
it’s ghost like precision…

Crows can be murder
or rapture or rotten…

We entered beneath it
and soon twas forgotten.

I was in your apartment
and very much single…

When the spark in your eyes
made my skin start to tingle…

Though we weren’t alone
and we weren’t together…

I was laying there
hard
and wanting
and clever…

The throbbing
was robbing of fear and of doubt…

The sex of your eyes
made me long to find out
just how you would taste
and I couldn’t hold back…

And alone for just moments
I pounced and reacted
with hunger and lust
at the sights set before me…

You tasted amazing…
You tasted of glory…
You tasted of chance…
You tasted of trust…

But the moment
it faded
and it turned to dust…

Yet within me it lingers…
I know what the crow meant…

For I remain rapt
in the taste of that moment.

Written by Jason Wright
September 20, 2011

For Tom: more than a year after the fact.

I WANT TO FUCK YOU

When you stand next to me
with smile that you give…

Not reflected in eyes
your disguise starts to give…

And I want to deliver you
into such madness…

Want to wipe out
the ache and the sadness…

Want to eclipse you
and hurt just a little…

I think that you’d like that
and not just a little.

’cause although you’re strong
you’re surprisingly green…

Though you’re black and you’re white
and all shades in between…

And the looks that you give
seem to lie and divide you…

But I so long to see,
your truth
and believe me:

I’d like to see you
with me deep inside you.

Written by Jason Wright
September 20, 2011

For George,

who was told a few hours ago.

RETURN

You’ve been gone for so long
yet you never quite knew it…

But you’re looking at me
and you know you’ve been through it…

Through all of the darkness
and all of the pain…

The tears and the struggle
that made you insane…

The hurt and the damage
that made you so bitter…

But one conversation
made you start to consider
finding a way
to return to the past…

The joy and the lust
which once held you fast…

The smiling laughter
and the best seen in others…

Finding love in one’s self;
in one’s sisters and brothers…

Expressing yourself
with reckless abandon…

With no fear of judgment
at being so random…

Do not fear rejection
at being so sexual…

Fear affects all;
makes you ineffectual.

So cast off your fear…
Please try if you can…

You aren’t alone…
You still have your friends…

Friends that will welcome you
back from the tragic:

Return to yourself
and remember the magic.

Written by Jason Wright
September 13, 2011

For Charles Lindsay, who inspired my return.

WISHING

Wish you were here
and that things were the same
as they were when I met you
with no one to blame…
with no illness or madness
or distance between us…
I wish you were here
with desire to fill us…
I wish you were riding
and we were together…
I wish we were writing
and we were forever…
I wish that the others
who found you were kinder…
My wishes serve as a constant reminder
that wishes mean nothing in the face of disaster…
I wish I could hear the sound of your laughter…
I wish I inspired it…
Although it sounds sappy…
I wish you the best and hope that you’re happy.

Written by Jason Wright
August 26, 2011

For Sean: who inspired much more and deserves so much better.

Art is a Mirror

Wasting away…
Ten years lost to illness.

The moments
between us
are filled with such stillness…

Cherished,
Exchanged,
Sharing our stories…

With chapters
in common
and frank allegories…

He gives it to me
and I’m touched
without touching…

He whispers to me
and I’m flushed
without blushing…

He leaves me
with passion
transcended to form…

The canvas
is thunder;
his heart is the storm.

The sea of emotion
by these colors rendered;

the work of a man
who never surrendered,

The man in the painting
who’s insides are bruised…

Is haunted by faces
that used and abused.

Some of the faces
are drugs that he’s taken…

Others are ghosts
that still leave him shaken…

Some are illusions,
Others invented,
Some are the sins that he’s never repented.

Others are faces
of boys he’s not dated…

He thought that he had
but they really translated
into nights meaning nothing
except what he’s losing…

For riches imagined
and instrument moving…

The face is the horror
of waiting untasted…

The face is my mirror…

The face of time wasted.

Written By Jason Wright
August 14, 2011

For: Johnny Vaughn, who’s artwork inspired it.

Johnny V passed away a little over 6 years after I wrote this. He was a caring friend when I deeply needed one. He and I had shared history but his adventures had been with people who were only ever on my periphery and I cherished each and every story that he gifted me with. He was also a brilliant painter and gave me the work that inspired this poem, though I also put in as many references to his tales that only he might recognize. I’m gratified that he read this and had such a positive reaction.

Rest in Peace brother.

“I’ll Never Touch Your Body Again”

I started watching ‘Nikita’ the other day. I’ve watched 11
episodes; there are 5 more before I’m caught up. I’m
enjoying it. Parts of it are derivative of other shows
(mostly ALIAS) but there are enough twists to keep it
fresh, and 2 things I had major problems with were
resolved in the last episode I watched.

I still haven’t finished ‘Son of a Witch’; I have about 60
pages left.

Mark left for a business trip yesterday; he took the train to
Chicago and will return on Wednesday. I miss him.

We went to Jeremy’s going away party on Saturday; he’s
moving to Israel. It was great to see him and several other
friends (Tom, Jeff, Marc) and I met a cute guy (Richard)
that gave me his phone #. And Mark got the number of a
really cool girl (Nicole). Fun.

Yesterday Michael’s lies and the pain they have caused me
came to a head. He wanted to know if he could come out
here to Ann Arbor, just a few blocks from me, fuck some
guy, shower and then fuck me. I thought he was going to
ask if he could come visit with me so that hit hard. I knew
he’d been lying to me for days. I knew he’d lied to me
almost every day that I’d known him. I thought I could
make it work but I can’t. I left him a message (I knew he
wouldn’t answer while he was fucking the guy up the road)
telling him all that I’d done to secure the truth and how I
knew that he’d been lying to me the whole time…and I
BEGGED HIM to never contact me again. No e-mails. No
phone calls. I’m done. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want
to talk to him. I don’t want to fuck him. I don’t want to
think about him. I’ve let him treat me like crap for nearly 2
years now. He had moments of amazing generosity but
that just made the more outlandishly painful moments
hurt worse. He’s a master manipulater as more than one
observer has told me in the past. And I can’t be around
him and be at peace. I can’t find the right balance or crack
the right code. I’ve given it my all. And I’m done. I admit
defeat. And it feels good. It feels like the healthiest choice
I’ve made in ages.

After Michael called me and I finally had the courage to
leave him the message I felt afraid. I knew he was just
blocks away and I didn’t want to see him. Mark wasn’t
here. I called my friend Carrie but she was on a date. I
called Mark and he suggested I go to Jeremy’s. I left the
house and parked at Aut Bar. I deduced that all my family
was at their church and I wanted to leave town so I went
there. I sat with my family while the pastor droned on
about stuff that I’m completely opposed to. It reminded
me of my upbringing and how far I’ve come from that
horrible environment – though there was some comfort to
be found in that group of people who’s beliefs I have
never truly shared. I went to see Janice’s new house
afterwards. Then I came home. Watched some shows. And
slept.

I slept very well. I’ve not had the urge to contact Michael at
all. He left me a voicemail yesterday and I deleted it
without listening to it. I deleted his photos from my
facebook and I blocked his profiles on Facebook and
Manhunt. I want zero contact with him. I’m keeping my
phone off as much as possible. I’m contemplating
changing my phone number. I just don’t want any contact
with him because I’m afraid he’ll find someway to
manipulate me in some way and I’m not ready to face that.
Not yet. I know I don’t have that strength yet but I have
enough to stay away from him. If I can do that for a
month…a year…maybe I can see him and not hurt. It’s
worked with other ex-bfs but none of them have hurt me
to the degree that he has. If I could just avoid him forever
that would be great. I doubt it will be easy…the gay
community in MI is small and he’s slept with most of it.
Thankfully he’s mostly a top and I’m mostly a bottom so
that helps limit the contact I’m likely to have….

On another note…it’s come to my attention that I ingest a
shocking amount of butter…so I’m trying to reduce my
intake. I’d like to start drinking more tea as well as I have
a cabinet FILLED with tea that’s just sitting there.

There will be a mini-Doctor Who episode on March 18th.
It’s too early to know if it will fit within continuity, but it
would be nice if it did. We’ll see.

Edit – April 2026 Notes:
I never finished “Nikita”.
I did finish “Son of a Witch” (several times).
I never saw Jeremy in person again,
although we sometimes chat online.

And although we had broken up several times in the two years that we had dated, this was the final time and I didn’t see Michael in person again until October 21, by which time I had healed considerably. I saw him a couple of times in 2012, and then briefly in 2021 but this was the end of seeing him on a regular basis.

Michael’s offer to fuck someone else and then join me after might have gone over differently if he’d only just been honest with me up to that point; this might even have been his attempt at doing so, but it was just too late. The years of lying were too much for my heart to take and I needed to call it quits. This was a difficult decision for me and was certainly not an easy one, but in the end it was the right call. Being with Michael taught me what I did and did not want in a relationship. I wanted honesty. I wanted to laugh. And I did not want anything resembling the lies and jealousy that Michael gave me.

Still, I sometimes wonder if I could have helped this relationship work if I had been able to express myself a little better, knowing what I know now. It’s hard to say. Probably not. But it’s a nice thought.

Mystery of Preston

From the first moment…
I’ve loved who you are
when it’s only just us…

Nothing distracting the truth
of the two of us.

Just our eyes locked
across voids we can’t place…

The hurt and the kindness
as it lights up your face…

The pain you keep hidden
and the light you can’t see…

I like you best
when you are with me.

Written by Jason Wright
July 25, 2008

For Preston James Clayton, who inspired it.

May he rest in peace.

—-
I met Preston online (where he lied and told me he was older), then ran into him on the streets of Ann Abor, where he was living at the time. On the streets I mean. I was shocked and appalled at his all too common situation; he said he’d been kicked out of his family’s home for being gay. I took him to get dinner because feeding him seemed a priority, which is ironic since I’ve often struggled to feed myself, which in retrospect, might be why he felt like a piece of me despite us never being that close. He wasn’t very clean at the time. I took him home with me so he could take a shower (alone) and I was going to let him stay on the couch for the night. He crawled into bed with me and tried to have sex with me, but I gently explained that I cared about him and that I couldn’t be his lover. I think he was upset about this for awhile, but I would sometimes run into him and his friends at a gay bar or on the streets and we’d talk. He eventually got an apartment and invited me to their housewarming party and I stopped by but I could tell he was going to try hook up with me and I didn’t want that so I said my goodbyes and left. That may have been the last time I saw him. He died of a drug overdose sometime between July 14 & 17 of 2010. I believe he was 18 when he died but my memories of this time are a blur and also, I was never very well informed on his life. I just knew it was sad.

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