You can tell yourself you were desperate for money, 

because it happened to be true.

You can tell yourself only one person saw you, 

because, as far as you know, its true.

You can tell yourself you have no issues 

with your sexuality

because you don't.

But for every deal you make with yourself

you can't go back to the boy you were 

before you talked yourself,

     or let yourself be talked,

into sucking your own dick

on a webcam for money. 

Because from there, the deals you make

get uglier and easier, because you

aren't making deals with yourself anymore

but with some stranger

who looks like you used to.

I laugh away the pain.

Ignore the blatent truth,

Stare 

           Upon

                       Stare.

I lie to hide color

Red.

Blue.

Black.

No one gave me away-

I lost myself.

Self-inflicted memories.

And now I will live

       but not live

survive.