Fourteen (III)

Nearing the end of the road
the end of hope
the end of you and I

I know my heart
my body
I know these are mine
mine alone

I’ve embellished one,
disrespected the other
I’ve nurtured one,
sexualized the other
I became the cliché I feared
(I feared my heart would disappear)

Caught once more in a goddamn war

the war on my identity

One says: I should be free to be me, to feel love,
to show love, to embrace my mistakes, and erase the hate.

The other says: I should be damned,
stuck in romantic purgatory;
sexually exploiting my insecurities—hiding from me.

I fear myself. I feel myself colliding.
Two asteroids converging, hurtling beyond captivity