I dream a world where justice, like a blanket, covers the unfair earth with freedom and equality, making everything peaceful and the impossible, obtainable. I wish for a pheonix to rise from the ashes of hatred in the silhouette of justice, carrying tidings of peace, as the raven of bigotry plummets down to a bitter…
Poetry
And I Dance Slowly
Trigger Warnings: HIV/AIDS, Death Summary: “And I Dance Slowly” develops the relationship between two men, one with HIV. Plaguing gay men, HIV greatly affected many lives in the 1980s/1990s, especially. This work shows the love they feel for each other, even as they continue their dance with death.
I don’t want to be afraid (Coming out)
I don't want to be afraid Yet I always am I don't want to be ashamed But I don't know if I can Be brave Be strong Instead of hiding behind this mask I want to admit my insecurities But I'm to afraid I know they will be supportive of me Why can't I be…
(untitled)
A swipe Pulling my pen Across a blank sheet of paper A smear of ink Follows my hand The start to a rainbow
a thousand miles to the east
it’d be a thousand miles to the east and almost two thousand miles to the west but I am willing to fly, drive, take a bus, or walk, across those stretches of land so that I can hug my partners so that I can kiss them and cuddle them and just be with them for…
Grave Digger
tw: gender dysphoria What am I doing wrong? Her visits are rare and cruel. She uses a knife and digs it into the wounds she helped create. She says my name in a grave, knowing that I mourn its loss. But can I criticize? I'll just be pushing her away. I miss her. But it's…
so love
Hate spews Hate burns Hate tricks Hate destroys Hate rips and tears Hate takes all that's well And makes it wrong. All that's loved Suddenly gone. It rips families and friends To pieces It wrongly convicts And strips those of what's needed. Hate breaks. So love. Love mends old wounds Love resolves old tunes Love…
collision
we met at the collision of words and summer storms laughing in purple hoodies and spreading our hair through warm grass we forgot the reasons we shouldn’t and locked fingers under streetlights, too busy making memories out of mosquito bites to remember the rest of the world we drowned our feelings in the sparkling rain…
Point A
We are more then a midsummer dream, I swear. We are more then what I have left- a green shirt with an inside joke that washed off too easily one blurry photo a longer-then-it-should-have been note in the pen that never smudged We are something too big to hold. Tapping morse code of our own…
subject line:
A poem I wrote after I was broken up with by my best friend
