A lonely gay boy’s thoughts from a bathtub
i knew dumbledore was gay from the moment it was revealed that he owned a phoenix
what do straight people know about rebirth
of seeing yourself burn, of slicing your own throat
my postmortem lasted 7 years
my body embalmed, my organs preserved in glass jars of complacency
there was no funeral, no flowers placed on my tomb
in an unmarked grave i laid praying i wouldn’t rise anew
but alas
like worms
wriggling out of the dirt after the rain
i was reborn
how do you smother something that yearns so deeply to breathe how do you drown the undrownable
how do you burn the inflammable
I have died so often
i have buried myself more times than i can count
and yet i am still here
how do you exercise your own soul
banish the wickedness that is your love
lock what is so ghastly, that you nay dare speak its name
i spoke about it in whispers
“am i…you know”
afraid that if i spoke too loudly he would come back
that he would press my face against the mirror that is my sadness
my reflection had never been a friend
it had been an enemy for longer than i can remember
and the broken glass that was my heart could not bear to see what i had done
i was tired of dying
i was tired of killing
my first public resurrection was in front of my sister
i took her hands, showed her the plot of dirt that was my home
with care i drug myself out of the earth
kissed myself on the forehead and begged for forgiveness
the scars haven’t fully healed
death always leaves a mark and sometimes i can still feel water in my lungs
but i do not let myself drown
i have drowned too many times
i take my own hand, give myself a hug and tell myself
i am
forgiven