And when you've wiped the foggy mirror clean

Made to be other.
I am a boy who loves men.
And they are my plight.

Howling kittens age.
Middle-aged daisies are plucked.
And youth is still gone.

Walk me to the ledge.
Take my hand, please. Or refrain.
Either way I'll breathe.

Perhaps you've known.
Or maybe that was mere chance.
Please keep my secret.

Once a mother-bird.
And next a prideful hunter.
Hatchlings left to wilt.

Pinkish wine-stained lips.
Horrible, empty eyeballs.
Still with your shoes on.