I wander,

A broken sculpture,

Shattered and shaking.

I weap,

A weary soul,

Heavy and aching.

Days are nothing.

Nights are everything.

Nothing is fitfull dreaming and numb repitition.

Everything is torment and pain.

Wandering, weaping,

I cease to be.

My will has been broken,

I can not be freed...

***note! this doesn't neccessarily apply to my life, but rather my feelings

The South ain't so charmin' honey.

I'm really starting to hate it! I'm know I'm not straight, and
finding out who and what I am is near impossible here. I have no
idea who to talk to about my sexuality, since almost everyone here
is uber-religious, and mostly Baptist!!! (horror music plays).

My family's baptist too.

So, who do I talk to????