If yes and no were the options, I'm the maybe
If hot and cold were the choices, I'm warm all the time
If it's between me or someone else, it will always never be me.
I've become used to the grey areas and uncertainties of life,
the middle ground or the lack of real choices.
Somehow they reflect upon my identity and make me who I am,
a queer individual who doesn't know their gender or who they want to date.
It reflects back to my relationships in general too,
never knowing what they see in me or if I am still that friend to them.
Options for me are limited and limitless,
and maybe that's why I'm never anyone's choice.
About the Creator
Angel Adagio
Thank you for taking the time to read some of my work. It may not be perfect, but it's real. I hope you'll stay a while.
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More stories from Angel Adagio and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Greatly done