A/N: This was written for the July WCC in the Review Game. Go check it out sometime.


wings, he wish he had.
not to fly away but just to look at.
"so pretty" he'd murmur & stroke them softly
but that would be gay [am-i-right?, am-i-right?]
boys don't play with angels, they pluck their feathers
out with red horns. so he sighs and puts away the dolls
for the day but still daydreams about those fleeting-wind-swept
kisses. fairy dust, it falls on his face, causing him to laugh right out
loud into the crowd of sidelong glances. "well, isn't that what i am?"
bitter and angry. he will never understand why they are all so damn
scared. oh, father dear, that never looks at him. so careful, rarely left
even a single footprint but he knew, oh, he knew. how did that happen?
mother's lips are sealed with the fear of eternal damnation. go to your
room. abominations in His sight are not allowed to eat dinner with the
rest of the happy family. you are not loved and no one will understand.
quiet, alone. he will not admit that those are scars from imaginary pain.
"go wear a dress, you effing fa-" forget it. he gets it. he wasn't invited.
there is not enough room in this town for this many closets. sigh as he
breathes in. gotta love the free hatred. it gets under his skin & even
licks at his veins, kinda lending him a reason to go on&on. will they
ever have the guts to look him dead straight in the eye? brother
always insisted on being the one to inflict the maximum [damn]-
age. still he refuses to let them see the way the words engulf
the thin sheet that is&was his soul. and you know it hurts.
you know it better than any of them ever will. but just go
and walk back inside. don't get involved. some things
are just too risky to put your indecency on the line.
head down with your eyes rolled back in, more
than typical case of an outsider. slouch away
the worries & sm-o-ke up the repudiation.
no one ever seemed to mind if you were
breathing[or not]. did you remember
to close their eyes? i'm sure they
specifically asked you to hurry
and GET|OUT of their faces.
ignoring the ache from
the pain & gritting
his teeth against
the torrent, he
lifts the rifle
to her lips
and lays
his head
beside
your
[for-
ever]
bleed
-ing,
h
e
a
r
t

.

.

He never did lose the beat.