BALD JASON'S GAY GOTH BOY BLOG
A Work in Progress…Welcome Back!
Knives on the slate
and discussion of death.
My lives of late
are now months bereft.
The veiled lure of cash –
(recitation complex)
A failure to crash –
(cessation of sex)
And all of it: meaningless –
(meaning too much?)
Is there any redeeming us
there where we touch?
Written by Jason Wright
February 6, 2020
Hearing disappointment which matches
THE SICKNESS INSIDE ME
threatening to overtake me.
Breathe.
The train is already departing one six eight;
perhaps this panic is for nothing?
Why do the only loud people
in the car gravitate toward me?
Hungry. Terrified and hungry.
Some things never change…
but I can.
Relax. Breathe.
He cannot hurt me here.
She is safe.
And I will eat before long.
If the show has begun
I will eat without fear
and rest,
knowing I’ve seen this particular show
three times before,
and I will be there for Aaron
without compromising
sanity or the denial of self.
If I make it there in time I will be
collected and calm. I will take in
this special show with
no need of regret
for I have controlled my fear
and done my best to travel
especially on the
fucked up weekend transit.
Now relax. Breathe / Ground,
and be the Jason that you want to be.
Written by Jason Wright
October 29, 2017
Some days are harder than others.
Some days his voice is so loud
that I can’t hear or feel anything else
without turning myself inside out.
It never lasts for more than an hour or two
(often times less than that)
but in that time he makes sure
that I have his undivided attention.
This can be problematic
and disorienting
when I’m in public.
Our communication can never last for long
because I don’t have the reserves.
It’s too all consuming to sustain itself.
He doesn’t like to be ignored
and I don’t do it on purpose
but it takes a lot of energy
and skills that I’ve not yet completely developed.
And paying attention to him can be dangerous,
but so can ignoring him. Clearly.
Sometimes he wants me to throw all of my food away.
He’s jealous, I think.
Some weekends, everything I plan on
falls apart because of him.
The way that I’m falling apart,
but seldom admit.
Every day that I don’t cut is a victory.
I know this.
But it doesn’t feel like the truth.
It feels like cowardice.
If I could just cut him out of me…
I’d be dead.
That’s the problem.
I think I’m beginning to hate him.
Hate myself.
Because he’s keeping me prisoner.
I missed the party on Friday,
the opera on Saturday,
the walk in the park today
because of his need…
and my aversion.
These feel like failures or defeats,
but is it a failure if it keeps you alive?
I try to talk myself through it
but my feelings are complicated
and often contradictory.
I don’t think anyone around me understands
and why should they?
It hurts being so alone though.
It’s just him and me.
Like when she abandoned me. Us.
There are people that love me,
which is incredible really,
because there’s a big piece of myself that’s missing.
He’s completely disconnected from me
and when that connection is made
the spark of that moment is blinding…
but nobody gets to see it but me.
Or maybe I’m wrong and people do see him,
or the absence of him?
Maybe people love me because of him.
I don’t really know.
All I know is that he’s closer to me today
than he usually is
and I’m alone
and I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Time to go for a walk.
Written by Jason Wright
March 29, 2015