Horror Author
why are you here
what do you fear
do you even care
if i am near
my mind is a mess
from what i can’t guess
though i try my best
i am beat by the rest
here we are found
companions of sound
perhaps we are bound
until life in the ground
i wish i could see
whatever we may be
for now it is nothing
but simply a dream
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
I’ve Worn Glasses Longer Than You’ve Been Alive
I got my first pair of glasses when I was two
Unlike most small children I kept mine on
I heard all the names and the jokes
Four eyes, goggles, bottle caps, nerd
I’ve had glasses for 30 years
People still think these jokes are new and funny
As I get older, my eyesight improves
The prescription gets better
Everyone else’s eyes are getting worse
Those who made fun of me now need glasses
Poetic justice
Persona Non Grata
There was a time
When my core group of
Friends were lesbians
And drag queens
No one before
Ever made me feel
So accepted
It’s a different culture
From the rest of
America
But I feel like
An outcast
In any culture
I feel like
A fading dream
On the edge of
Everyone’s mind
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
She’s rough
He’s almost too big
She grinds on my hips
It hurts but feels good
The friction burns
That’s the right spot
She moans
Why does he make that face?
While I’m inside
He doesn’t like it
I can only think of
He doesn’t like me
The friction
He doesn’t like my body
I’m uncomfortable
I’m not sexy
I can’t satisfy her
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
James Pack 