For Scott


You danced with me.

I could never bring myself
To thank you,
I never would have dared
To show my gratitude in any way
But this,
In the poetry that has become
My native tongue.

I have lived my life in pain, you see
A thousand voices,
Like death knells,
Echoing in my head;
Even though those words
Have not been spoken for three years.
But when a long part of your life
Is spent listening 
To others speaking of you in such ways,
You become shattered.

So, in the ugliness and stupidity
And pure wretchedness
That I saw in myself,
And that so many seemed to see in me
I find myself so often afraid.
So, so afraid.
Repulsed.

Then you, part of my group of friends
Became, somehow, the object
Of my first semi-romance,
A liking, truly nothing more,
But such things can run strong.
I had no chance with you, of course.
How could I have a chance at all?
But somehow I could not help but wonder
Foolish things. 
(Was that smile aimed, perhaps, at me?)

And then a crossroads loomed ahead
Where I found that I would leave behind
The world where I had found some shelter
From the pain surrounding me outside,
As well as many friends,
And I realized it was now or never.

It was a small thing,
Dancing with me.
I know you would have done it for anyone.
I felt such a fool there,
But there I was,
Doing the impossible,
And maybe,
Just maybe,
I wasn’t so bad after all.

So now I write this thanks
That you may never see
For giving me the chance to go
Beyond the fate that some have given me.
Now I am finally free to discover,
What good might actually exist
In me.

You danced with me.