Could you PLEASE (please) let me be a Symp in PEACE? Yes, I know I'm egregious and you did not need that $$$ corset or funding for whatever but i enjoyed off'ring see i wanna lullaby your teeming heart baby i wanna sing for what is needed honey i wanna war-cry for the muses in us daddy i wanna kill the space between our mutual affections for each other's welfare and meditate on our interbeing and become more than— any thing Understand? I'm not your cringe incel simp or some anxious attachment wannabe come to haunt thee. I'm a goddamn sage and I wouldn't DO IT if it wasn't ME. I'm the Wolf in the night, eh? And NO, the fire does not scare me. I'm the ride-or-die, okay? I'm the closest thing to God you have. And do you even see me? No, I'm—fuck!—I'm needy and I just wanna be needed. I'd like to be needed. So, (PLEASE) let me be a Symp in peace. There's no romance, no straw dog to keep you strung along and dissatisfied. Only there is the calm love of my evergreen temptation: Ever will I be for you, always. So, Let's get that corset for you. Let's gather some lipstick. Let's kiss until I give in. I mean it. I'm the real deal. Just a quiet, quite queer little vagabond looking to serve. So, please (if you please), let me be a Symp in peace. — writ throughout Summer 2024, for Will Edgcomb & their coterie (including me)
Author’s Note: This is a poem about the delusion of confidence, loving yourself, and about a creature of urban fable known as a Symp. You can imagine it to be anything you’d like, knowing it would gladly be anything you’d like. You’re welcome. — T
And stay tuned mid-September for another Tale from the Violet Cycle: Philosopher, Traveller, Magician, Lover (in which our Hero misplaces a baby!).