I won't be holding my breath.

I've finally reached my breaking point.
I think.
I mean I hope.
I've thought that a time or two before.

I'm tired of trying to...
mend fences,
gloss over hurt feelings,
get past the past,
and get on with the future.

I'm tired of being the only one who seems to care
if fences are mended.
If things are cleared up and straightened out.

Therein lies the problem.
Trying to straighten things out.
I ought to know by now things are better when they are not straight.
All things are better when queered up a bit.

Queer the deal.
Queer the planet.

No more from me.
No more trying to get together.
No more trying to explain.
No more.
Period.

If you want it,
you do the trying,
you do the explaining,
you do something, anything.

Queer the deal.
Queer the planet.

I won’t be holding my breath.