closure: last poem to justin

Linton, I can't say I stumbled upon you knowingly.
One summer night, you breezily knocked all the wind
out of my stomach, and I was sucker punched
into falling for you. I learned, the hardest way,
how to dust my scabbed knees off and keep walking,
but I found my Heathcliff to kiss away the bruises.
I told the world I loved you because you completed me;
woke up piecing your face next to mine in the mirror,
but baby, he isn't a soulmate, he's a kindred spirit,
and I am beautifully and fully myself with him,
which I know is something that eludes your stubborn nature.
In a way, your pigheadedness is your most tragic feature,
because your tenacity is what makes you tenuous.
Tomorrow, I will patiently wait for you to finish ranting,
catch your breath sharply right in between your teeth
the way you always do right before your eyes tell me
how much my changed nature breaks your heart,
but baby, what Heathcliff's realized the whole time while
you desperately and reverently preached your doctrine
is that, baby, it hurts, but I've been the same all along.

waking up to test results

You fucked the structure of my body
until my bones jutted out at perpendicular
angles. Baby, I can't fit your frame forever,
because my soul is dilapidated
and disease flows through my veins
towards my heart. My arteries are racked
with virus nowadays as if you carved
memories of us within the walls of my capillaries.
There's a mixed joy in knowing that in today's
day and age, I no longer need to blame
blood transfusions, but I still refuse to believe
that people still adhere to the myth
that this is a gay disease. At this point,
it's venereal, not sexual, and you've
infected me with the blues.
I find no joy in bending your will
like the rusted over strings on my guitar,
but baby, this ain't a love song cause
I learned real quick how cliche that shit gets.
There are times where we discuss invincibility,
but I think you forget that sometimes,
eternity isn't inscribed upon the pupils
you gaze into; I have an expiration date,
and baby, I'm so sorry, but we're all
gonna die someday.