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…
Tag: poem
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
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…
subject line:
A poem I wrote after I was broken up with by my best friend
to the dresses in my closet
How are you? Besides frilly and heavily gendered, I mean. We've known each other a while, Ever since my aunt declared I would look simply darling In pink with ringlets And I wondered why someone Would ever want to be darling When you could be witty. Even though you're just a piece of cloth, I…
A Collection of Poems
remembering your wings my fairy wings grew in between my shoulder blades sprouting from skin like a tulip pushing itself up from its bulb into the fresh air of the spinning world. nail clippers and scissors are not strong enough to trim wings never enough to make you forget that your petals and hands and…
old pennies
Denim shorts smell like old pennies when they're soaked in rainwater. The room smells too clean to have me up on the stage, dripping wet, in front of thirty people Forming a puddle on the dull scratched black of the stage Old pennies and wildflowers and soap and damp skin I press my face into…
