Wound
the wound he won’t
let heal
leaves me scarred.
i well up when
his eyes
refuse to cry.
the blood in his
boxer briefs
burns my dreams.
why do that to
a boy,
to feel…powerful?
now are you a
real man,
since raping him?
i sincerely hope you
feel big
and so strong.
because if you don’t,
my friend
broke for nothing.
Affect(ion)
i surrender so many fucks
because you refuse to give a single one.
my fucks perish trying to prove my love;
yours still have a price tag.
(do you plan on returning them?
i mean, it’s not like you’re gonna use ’em.)
all i want is to get back just
a shred of what i spend,
my whole heart for a sliver of yours.
i’m at a loss—i’ve:
begged with touch, beseeched with words
and ceded all of my available time.
every part of me is in your hands, except
my dick since i guess you’re so bored by it,
though you know better than anyone
that i practically worship yours. well
whenever you wish to bestow it upon me,
i have got just the spot.
…i’m still waiting on that fuck
Beget
to love a non-lover
is my heart’s worst
repeat offense…
cannibalizing itself
to mend broken boys
whom it cannot help
but fall in love with,
having oft glimpsed at
their tender hearts
with eager devotion—
unaware that they, while
affable and sweet
at first,
are in actuality aloof
and somewhat frosty
—but then it is too late,
and it is my heart, wrecked,
in need of a boy, who
does not exist,
to heal me with affection, which
will never be felt
***
Brandon Stanwyck is a Cleveland-based crewman for film and television productions. Twitter: @BrandonStanwyck | Instagram: @brandoncinema
