Sympathy for the Damned – Arthur Dylan Scott

Sobs give way to screams,
      each time your visage haunts my dreams.
Electric eyes could not conceive,
      treacherous whispers under sheet.
You fucked me like a shameful toy,
      ere concealing desire for boys.
Rage was the power that set me free,
      burning, pulsing—honesty.

A lifetime at once, the decision borne
      I was held, bound, injected, torn.
Every day, each mouthful of pills,
     twenty-one days, strengthened my will.
Every traitor who confessed,
     feigned to know my woman-ness.
Forty-two years, I searched, I fought,
      to be the man—Arthur Dylan Scott.