anxiety

other

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

Has men. This other could other that
(or jealous I cannot have my own penises
I feel a hard part of other queers

I tried to accept my ability as a woman
Particularly politicized, seeking femme rejection

My attraction shatters if I type enough
Pronoun rejection\

Woman, frame, coffee, reel
Imagine a queer and out loud self, measure myself by others’ rejection

Manhood is anxiety
At present it’s messing, likely, really
Inappropriate

So far all men are homos. Some are similar such as myself. A man can be trying women’s clothes. Too. Some will say, lesbian not gay. Some will be more poetic.

Men are observing politicized desire too. I am not a sham. Muted.

A transman lesbian, my heart is on a lie. I’d rather feel them get off. It’s more than orientation, it’s fatherhood.

Rejection is shatter women-now. I focus in order to like me femme.

suede

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

The sounds of your mouth rattle my brain
Hollow me out
Marbles tracing a jittery pendulum
Across concave metal
Hollow me in

Should I fall in love with him?
Should I not fall in love with him?

Scared Scarred
Scarred Scared

Insert my fingers into your shoe
Pull you out
Pry suede from cotton lick your ankle
Rest my nose on the ball of your foot
Pull you in

Should I fall in love with him?
Should I not fall in love with him?

Scarred Scared
Scared Sacred

use

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I can let people have used me
And more importantly, do(es) I think any love is a truer self?
Their fears and fucked up roles become the vibrations of me too

He wants intimacy,
what sweet sacred line between platonic affection and being held?

I want his split self in the bushes
/ nature
/ / / edge
making me his asset

How will you receive hir love and attention,
with that desire to control and so on?

I’m wrestling with the water
I don’t want to be completely available
I want to forget?
Does it matter?

He fuels confusion,
why do I feel like a trash tin?

I want to support his deepest desires
/ confused
/ / / worried
when he gets too neat

Why do I feel so humiliated,
because relationships (a) whither (b) blow up?

And so simple
/ cling
/ / suck
was it special

He told me he projected my true self onto me
More importantly, do(es) he feel controlled by affection, aspiration, desire in his legs?
I hold their better weaknesses instead of the hidden sides they cannot face

light

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I hold my heart in the same places
His belt strikes the narrow space between my voice and disappearing
He assures me, serious, (not yet)
Smash them under
Get caught
Control yourself
You are shaking
Are they angry feelings?

I wonder how I say nothing
I press the air out of my chest till I mumble it’s ok, don’t worry
They pressure, finger, clarify in this space that it isn’t
Why do you look so badly
It’s so fucked up here
On any given day
You are hurt
Are they sad feelings?

I use the cool concrete to firm my resolve
Stoke the wet center of my anxiety
They push their upper body and say, voice disappearing
Can you trust yourself
Come in
I want to
You are hiding
Are they fear feelings?

You want to hurt me while I’m quiet
I know what I can muster is wrong in the spaces between what is/n’t
They tell me I’m ok with that (for the future)
I’m trying with you
I start you to keep pushing
Pooling brightness
You are softening
Are they joy feelings?

harder

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

kick myself for me, brightly coming, releasing his eyes
sometimes I sit completely still
barely breathing while you start the next

Lately you’d been gone and you’d asked for a good boy. I can be asked for it.

“I think you should try harder”

I sit in your chair, refusing to pout, inserting lines between us. I decide I do.

You start in one moment not to miss me or feel better,
saying softly, as if you are me,

“We have you, whatever is left”

Your facade falls as you push your own needs, follow my hair down my face. I can be disciplined.

“Do you know what I’ve asked you for?”

You bark defensively.
You’ve been softer,
warmer with a bit in your gaze. You think I’m unruly.

I spit his domination and desire
My ears burn and pound
Wrap my body in a shield
Before he unzips his bulge

I don’t miss you
I don’t want you close
I don’t want you so warm while looking away

You get up behind me, make me walk in front of you, all hard inside
He opens his fear, standing, towering over, relentless, angry, jealous

“I…I… I t…tried my eyes, inserting them for your eyes that wander to make you look at…”

“What are you looking at?”

“No.. nothing…”

I stutter. I can obey him. He is terribly confusing, and I’d do what was never heard before. He keeps me to work on himself, but the sight of him turns me staring.

“What did you do?”

His mouth drops if I look at him. He pushed hard earlier when I hadn’t put the possibility on the table. He taught me how to be ashamed of admiration in the corners of my knees.

I want to be as you want to be, so provocative I almost lose focus
I’m not a door for you to break open
a pool for you emotionless eyes

He complies with his desire and immediately regrets it, jerking, red with shame.

“Do you need to tell me that what you did was wrong?”

You got all hard inside me and I let you
You have a way to make it about me
I am just playing along
to keep you from warning me
about looking up

I wish I had answered the voice of confusion
I wish I could be an easy friend
I wish I could feel better

I’m trying to tell you that when I obey him his eyes start to work
and it’s for my own good
only I can take it by drawing it out with his pen

lost

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

who is..
where is…

what happened to your sex?
is it in the bathroom, the bathtub?
did you drop it into the toilet?
did it get sucked down the drain?

or is it still sleeping entangled in the bedsheets
while you left for work in the morning?
with socks lost to the laundry,
on the kitchen counter,
or in a bag in a drawer for safekeeping?

Did you ask someone to hold it for you,
and then they ran off?

Was it removed by a doctor,
as an anomaly?

When its taken from you
its hard to remember

Maybe mine is in the car with bad breaks
in the ruins of a New England mill
lying in the tall grass next to the river

Or gathering dust in the teacher’s closet
behind the dugout
caught in drag in a bridesmaid dress

You search frantic
sweating
pounding
wanting

for what you misplaced
fearing it is gone

And then you realize
he took it from you
he lost it when
he misplaced his own

autorumination

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

My phone is so cute
And I don’t know how to do

I’m not going to be able to see you

The fact that I can see you
The only thing that would make me happy

But it was not immediately available to be

I’m not sure what to say
The fact is that it would mean the world to see

Tell me what to say
Tell me how to get
Tell me that you can

Tell meh

Tell her
Tell him
Tell me

How to do it again
C. C … and I don’t know if you want me

Do you think
Do you know
Do you have

The only this is that is it not the only thing

I can be used for the next few years ago
when
I was just thinking about you
and your family and I love you so bad
I don’t think that it would be nice to see you
bb.bb. at all

I don’t think
I don’t know
I don’t have

My phone is so much better than this one
w/wv. v was injured in the morning

I’m not going to be the best thing about …

I’m not going to be able too
I’m not going to get my nails
I’m not going to get my phone
I’m not going anywhere else

You can get the best
You can get it together
You can get the same
You can get a new phone

Your phone is so good
at all the best ways to go back home

and you can be used for the
rest of the day
before I can be used for the
rest of the year

B&b. B, beforethat it would have
a lot to be/me
the same thing
as two

Two years
Two years ago
Two years later

Two years of my friends
Two years of my life
Two years of my favorite song

Two years of my favorite thing about being
able to see you

Soon
Soon after
Soon as I have a lot more than the original of my life

Until then
Until the end
B. Until the end of this

Until then I’m not going
to be able to see you

erase it

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

before someone sees

she’s erasing me
like a mistake
an ugly thing that shouldn’t have

no sooner do i disappear
and then she constructs a shrine
a memorial to my untimely death

remove every trace of hir
broom and dust pan
burn the poems for my pedophile
trash my phalic paintings

will you want to keep these love letters?
no.
you might wish you had
no.

sweep me up into the attic
away into the closet
where i hid from him
with my stuffed animals

stuffed animals into trash bags
they have bugs,
dirty

keep it under the bed
before it gets put into yard sales
and give aways

i cannot be erased
when i was never there to
begin with

you could find me in my writing
my drawings
hiding inside my father’s tattered clothes

craft a memory of what i could never be
you will sleep there sometimes
i never could

I’m fine

~ jacobalden ~ Leave a comment

I’m fine but I couldn’t follow you, especially when I feel worthless. That twists your concerns. You say it wasn’t possible. I hate the part of you that thinks I could hurt. I want to disappear. But it grows when moments trap us into anger. I let my empathy hurt you? I am motivated by it? You just took the part of me that was happy and cut a hole in it. Call me if you find yourself in the reality where I am. We can laugh about all the things that are getting to our hearts.

The things I distrust are made more explicit. You don’t see me into submission, but I do. I lost the chance to bring the monsters into our inauthentic interactions. Its terrifying. You were talking about sex, so I wasn’t listening. I will hold you. But he will find you at ease and bring the kill.

I’m motivated by our friendship; when it’s cut off it’s the most important. I am motivated by ideas when I can associate all of their meanings beforehand. Its the why of it all; why you think I’m drawn to cause harm.

You said its about projection. In the subtle ways I shut you out. I enliven the muck that motivates you to cross me out. That part is not unusual for myself when I’m alone. Intuitively I won’t speak my desire; blame me if I can’t know my desire. My approach can be provocative.

I understand I have your conditional support and I’d rather pack it up and shut down. I have this funny thing. I lose trust. I feel strongly that you think you’re worthless. That you will softly project my fear of how fragile we are, what I want with you, and how trapped I am in assumptions.

Sometimes our feelings are intertwined and that’s when we are at risk of conflict. I become invested in each millimeter between us. I don’t want you. It’s not possible. It’s generative.

I blame you for being magnetic. It’s intensely physical and will take some time. Its too much and I couldn’t express my sense of it, of synchronicity and expansive love. That’s what I…just don’t call me out. Direct conversation cuts too close to my other layers. It’s not intentional that I open myself to that.

I’m ok. I can work with you.