I don't want to be in texas anymore or be a son, boyfriend, or brother.
I don't have the courage to kill myself
I'm gonna do something creative
I just want me to be me. I don't want to be my sex life, my romance, my kindness, my anger, my sadness.
I don't want to be defined by religions, my government, or bigots
My body aching when I come back from work reminds me I'm alive and that I still want something
When will I want something this much, I want to want to have sex again. I want to create again. I want to hug again. I want to talk more again.
I will do it. When. I will decide. I'm tired. So is everyone.
Trying to fix it
Figuring becoming an adult is fixing yourself up repeatedly to live around other people in order to live with yourself