whipped

a sharp stinging
mid-cerebral, no more
conjures shut out '...one times'...

its all coming back,
a fast flood of ignorance
and trust
lost
but always returning,
sooner or later

all it takes now
is a hint of chanel
or some soft floral smell
those internal gears
grinding me up like
hamburger
those long nails
leaving day-long scars
across my back

its not pain that
brings me to my knees
completely crystal clear to me
but too late

if i keep insisting that
i am gay,
maybe it will go away
and i'll not forget that
stinging whip too soon
again.