Twinkle, Twinkle Little Faggot

Twinkle, Twinkle little faggot, I always wondered who you are, you shined so bright in the hall my visions tumbled in view of your form. I gaze up at you all the time and have a fit of how beautiful you are. I can’t stop this clenching heart, so I would blame you for all the while. It is not my fault my heart’s in pain it’s your fault for causing it this way.

What can I do to resolve myself? my ideas were to bash you athroes in the head. Your gaunt expression withered me so, made me feel like the worthless nerf of old. It’s not my fault I say! I yell it decibels in true fashion I pray. The pros are watching, they are waiting for an error, waiting for me to give up the façade and pull you warm in my arms of terror.

My mind says its paranoia but that I cannot afford; You are my bane and pain shall be your reward. For every hit I take, for every hit I make I break a little inside when you shiver as I walk by your lane.

I want to pull you close but that can’t be so. I shudder with hate and fear grips my bones; I can’t be gay I refuse to be gay it’s that faggot’s fault for making me think this way.

What happened to the times when I liked the girls? When their freshly blossomed hair made me weak to the bones. In their place there’s you; your cheeky smile that lights up the room. I hate to admit it; I hate to say but I can’t get you out of my head it’s truly a shame.

I am happy you cower with every look I give; my stern look grips you till the morning eve. I am safe from the taunts, still I want to break your bones; to destroy you so I don’t feel this emotion no more. But you won’t let me, you would smile and those pink succulent lips would seem to call me forth.

You have caught me a thousand at times, but each ever countenance you receive leaves you aquake to the spine and pales your lovely cheeks from ones that just had a glow.

If looks could kill you would be dead. You have applied for transfers but I made sure you never left. For all the souls out there I would torment you till I die. I am not gay and torturing you would give me proof and release the fear I have kept captured for so long.

I love you, I know I do for my heart beats afast for ever I see you. I want to hold you, to beg you, to kiss you; to make love to you under the blue green sun but as I have said I am not gay.

What do you do when you have no family to rely on, no friends to talk to and the whole world is against you. My heart hurts indefinitely, an orifice tightening within, my capillaries swell, my hearts beats faster as I ponder from within.

I think they know my love for you, no matter how much pains I cause for you. It saddens me, most fully for all the deed I inflicted I cannot take back. I wish you could know, I wish I could touch you for once and you would not shiver in fear, your blonde won’t lose its lux and your smile won’t dim its light; that I wish and nothing more.

The boys watch, in the locker room they watch, in the halls they watch. How many women do I penetrate to get this cast out of my mane?

I slacken with heaviness I can’t do it no more. I have no one, a lost soul left away to dissolve. My only regret is not to see your smile, a thousand atimes more would soothe my heart.

The noose around my neck tightens with need, the cord is catgut and slithers beneath; its horded smell and taunted girdle draws my trachea with a fervour so dire. As my eyes close I see your blonde hair shining like the gods on the day of rapture, this time you are smiling and I too; as I take my final breath I wish against all hopes that my whispered words of love from parted lips so parched would reach you before the morning comes the sun.