Last night

after you hung up

I wrote you a poem

hoping it might change your heart.

This morning I tell myself:

Get serious, man.

Someone once compared

writing a poem

and hoping it will

change the world

to dropping rose petals

down a deep well

waiting for the splash.

- Ralph Fletcher

The last few months have been a rough time in my life. I started this blog as a sex blog and it has meandered through so much more than the bodily machinations associated with the sexual act. Recently, I’ve been grappling with incredibly difficult relationship issues among the people I love. I’ve been afraid to say much about any of it for fear of burning bridges and hurting the people I love and am working so hard to cling to.

At the same time, it has seemed disengenious to segment my sexuality out from my loving relationships and chatter idly about funny news stories, sex toys, or jerk-off fantasies. I’m hoping to find the courage soon to break my silence through some vignettes of particularly poignant moments that have transpired in the last few months. It might not be particularly sexy (unless you get off on emotional masochism) but I’ll be as honest as a can.

So, bear with me as this blog transitions into something that is, at once, a protest song and a love letter to the fears, insecurities, and joys in my life.