10-24-21, 03:29AM

others have butterflies that flutter inside their stomachs. the insides of their bodies are tickled with the thin tips of their wings and emotions spring out from the unfamiliar sensation gnawing at their very core.

i have moths in my heart, all forcing themselves inside and leaving no room. wings similar to feathers, dusty and mildewed and too big to fit inside the fist-sized organ. they flutter about and they never leave. it's not that anyone has put them inside of me. i welcome them and give them a home smaller than they deserve. it's too tight and constricting for their kind and yet they make do with the space. and i like them in there. because i've grown accustomed to having them in there. emotions have never been so tangled up and knotty like the first few attempts at tying a noose.

attraction is so complicated. it's like the product of a threesome of mazes and hieroglyphics and morse code. not liking men is such a linear statement, a compact and concise idea. something society has watered down and simplified for years. heteronormativity is drilled into my brain and hung on its frontal lobe with tightly screwed bolts. every fragmented whisper and hushed giggle forced into the inside of my mind like there are three seconds left to fill it before it overloads and the bomb is set off. it'll never work! electric plugs and sockets fit together and so do keyholes and keys and every other euphemism by the sex-crazed sick f***s who base every single idea on penises and vaginas fitting each other like puzzle pieces...

liking people who are not men. seems easy enough for me. and not for everyone else who is like me because for them it is the equivalent of the antichrist. of bloody eyes and reversed words falling out of my tongue like the regrets i've thrown up these past few years. it's demonic and mentally unwell and if anyone else ever finds out i will suddenly grow a pair of tough red horns and have a blood-red trident permanently glued in the palm of my left hand. and so i remedy it with male attention to feel sane and calm and serene and normal. and it's not normal. the moths knock from the inside of my heart and i have to swallow the shock whole.

big gasps of air become stuck in my throat and my heart beats as if it'll never get the chance ever again. everyone made it seem so easy. why is saying words you'll never mean and typing out the most basic sweet nothings so hard? 

maybe if... it was anyone else but a man? 

and i guess i will repeat the cycle once again until i am tired and scared and rushing to get my head above the water. except i will continue to drown and let the weight of my clothes pull me back down and flail my arms around helplessly until grooves and lines are embedded on the surface of my skin. and i will swim until i breathe and taste nothing but the salty ocean air that burns my tastebuds and fills my lungs to the brim. and i will not float. unlike everyone else.