BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
You were “the one”,
that’s what my friends said…
But you were a lie
and a ghost in my head…
You’re so insecure
and you struck while I slept…
You made me afraid
it was my fault I wept…
But my life is changing;
Believe me…
It’s true.
You can’t hurt me now:
I’m indifferent to you.
Written By Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011
For Michael Slaughter –
I’m caught in a trap
and I need to get out…
I need to break free
of my own sense of doubt…
I need to believe
that I can survive…
I can’t let myself
be buried alive…
I hate what has happened
to childhood me…
I hate that I listened
to Father’s dark plea…
I hate that the Michael
I knew never stayed…
I hate that my brother
has left me betrayed…
I hate that I hate this;
it just gives me grief…
I hate that my sickness
has trumped my belief…
But I love those I’ve known
and I can’t just desert them…
So I try to keep breathing
and try not to hurt them.
Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 27, 2011
For Jason
Compassion is given;
mistaken for lies…
A powerful weapon,
a question…but why?
Why play such games?
Why smile and sing?
Experience teaches
to not trust such things.
Yet I love the way that he sings a smile
and the way that his intellect reconciles…
Logic,
Success,
And things never guessed…
Except in his eyes
filled with things unexpressed.
He can sing,
He can act,
And in short, do it all…
Yet he doesn’t attack
or make you feel small…
His voice is a gift
you’re lucky to receive…
And the passion he carries
makes you grieve & believe…
Yet the power held there
is most naked and strong…
When he whispers against you
while held in your arms:
In that muted darkness
when he speaks to just you…
It’s then that you see that
his power is true.
It’s not just a game
though it isn’t a promise…
Things don’t always last
when whispered in darkness…
Yet I want to know more
and that’s really quite rare…
And I guess I just want him
to know that I care.
Written By Jason Wright
October 25, 2011
For Aaron Sanko
When I smile for others
or remember through tears…
When I remember my brothers
have been dead for years…
I sometimes light candles
not because I believe…
But more for the action
that allows me to grieve.
But this friend’s alive
so candles seem wrong…
And he’s too far away…
Too grave
and headstrong to not make a gesture
without such regret…
So I raise up my lighter,
To honor the fighter,
A nonsmoker smoking his last cigarette.
Written By Jason Wright
October 20, 2011
For David Hull.
I wish I could do more to help.
The most perfect kiss
that I’ve ever had…
An innocent bliss
before it went bad…
A smile and glow;
erections and laughter…
That kiss was worth everything;
all that came after.
He passed through my heart
and I barely saw him…
He rips me apart
with the truth of his random
journey through life
and I wish I could hold him…
I wish I could make it alright
and I’ve told him…
I can’t save myself
so I can’t be his savior…
I’m falling apart
and I’m falling from favor…
I’ve crashed to the Earth
and I’m trashed in this crater…
Yet the bliss
of that kiss
still exists ten years later.
Written by Jason Wright
October 16, 2011
For Sean
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 man in the house is a dream
not yet woken…
A devilish angel
their God has not broken…
He stands in that darkness and
nothing corrupts him…
Escaped from this prison
and it cannot touch him…
But it haunts his eyes
and I want to soothe him…
Want to caress,
connect and move through him…
But I cannot touch him
for ghosts don’t exist…
Yet he felt so alive
on the night that we kissed.
He appeared in my room
and awkwardness followed…
His thoughts deftly filled me
yet made me feel hollowed…
We wandered the streets
and I saw he was right…
They do look like paintings
at this time of night.
We shared our stories,
of pain and of drinking…
And I’m going to Hell
for all I kept thinking…
Between flash of eyelashes
time slowed to such length…
Seduced by such visions
of vulnerable strength…
Such moments were fleeting
for friendship was needed…
The slut deep inside me
confessed and conceded…
For he hears his heart
far more clearly than I…
He’s somewhere beyond me
and I don’t know why…
Returned to his home;
overwhelming and minimal…
Leaving him there was both
haunting and criminal…
The shouting and smells
seek to silence; malign him…
But he will survive…
This ghost is alive…
And the houses he haunts will never define him.
Written by Jason Wright
OCTOBER 10, 2011
For David Hull
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
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
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.