Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You said my words were synonyms for beautiful and my lines let you crossed boundaries. You said what i was making was art to be preserved. But, darling, my words arent from books, nor these tv shows, nor the fantasies of the real world. My words are a part of me and a piece of what you called ugly. These words were carved using the sharpness of the blades that once cut me. And how would i expect you to love me? My art is for the eyes of the ones who are brave enough to look at me.

so how are you supposed to love me?
4/13/18
You said you've accepted me but your eyes says otherwise.
We live in a straight world.
You might not think it’s true,
“Gays are coming out everyday
could be them next or her,
maybe you too”
Well I’ll take a minute to prove it to you.

If I told you I’m into girls
I’d see your brain short circuit in real time,
“But you don’t look gay” you’d say.
“Straight passing” is what they call
a girl like me, who still looks feminine
but doesn’t want the D.

This “luxury” of remaining in the closet
is really hurting my game,
Added another straight boy
to my list of those who lost it
when they heard me exclaim,
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m gay”

Let’s not forget the most important issue
“Gays will ruin the sanctity of marriage”
Here, I’ll hand you the tissues.
Man and woman, hand in hand, till death do they part,
and yet more than half of all marriages
end in the perfected art of divorce.

Far be it from me,
to take anyone’s right
to do and say what they want,
while you embrace the hate
and live fighting the inevitable reality
of any queer couple tying the knot.

It might be 2018,
but I still can’t hold a potential partner’s hand
in a public facility
without getting disgusted leers
and a dreadful look at multiple cases
of unprovoked hostility.

So, try to look me in the eyes,
And tell me I’m not right.
But despite it all
I’ll keep my head up high
And let that rainbow flag fly
Because this might be a straight world,

But love is love

is love

is love.



And that concludes this winded verse.
I wanted to write something that showed the struggles of being non-straight within the LGBTQ+ community that still exist, even in 2018.
She feels the night air
as her thoughts drift to him,
his touch, his kiss
his warm breath against her skin.
She feels the night air
as sleep takes her away,
to that place of safety and love
within his heart, she stays.
She feels the night air close in around her….

Sometimes every word is a sweet tear falling from her eyes
                                      She feels the night air…..
 Jan 2018 Haley Nicole Dalton
MAG
step one. let it hurt
step two. let it heal.
letting it hurt; driving with tears in your eyes, try and get lost in her eyes. Distract your pain in her presence and when you leave let yourself grieve. For what's broken takes time to find all the pieces, and what's lost can never be found. Ache for the lost and the homeless, the fever bound and the out of town horrors. Hide the pain well until you are alone... and if you should get into a worse spot let it be your home. Embrace your pain like the first love you've always had and let it hurt. Let it make you want to pick up your broken pieces and watch as you scramble to put it back together like you've wanted for years. Stitch it tightly and listen up. letting it heal is a process in which we all get down and pick at our suture but we can't tear it apart with a breakdown out of the blue. it will ache and quake in your chest as you try your best to let everyone around you see happiness. it radiates around you and you worry if the pain does too... they don't come around you like they used to. you've cut your strings to them and they go far, they meet new people and see new things and here you are... chained to every thought and memory of who you once were or who you thought you were. You pick yourself up and push through it all because you have her and getting better. that's what you plan to do, don't make it all for her make it for you too. for you suffering in silence when no one knew what had been found, another sliver of that piece in your chest. you've grown, you've conquered, you've built yourself up to be anything and everything you've dreamt up. so take this time to heal so when it's finally done... you can look at how far you've come and see how far you'll go with the one you know you want to heal with and grow with. Because she is your unknowingly strong rock, and she will never know how much she helps and hurts. Because you hurt the things you love the most but you help just by being close... she is yours and you are hers and together you will heal and grow and life with finally be something that is null and void of pain, you only see the positive pain. the type that builds you from the ground up and takes so much time to tear down and you never ever want it to happen you want to live again and make better things happen.  So what we've seen in a two step to making it hurt less is to first let it hurt like nothing has before then pick yourself up and let it heal, let yourself get better so you can intertwine and grow with her. ~m.a.g
This one is very personal but I do hope that some can take it and connect
 Jan 2018 Haley Nicole Dalton
K
2017 was an alcohol,
that cuts through your throat,
alone or with friends.
But you still drink it, anyway.

2017 was writing my first poem
published for the world
when I thought I’ll stay silent,
words were there. Still.

2017 was the first tattoo
on my body. I loved my skin enough
that I inked & hurt it.
The irony.

2017 was ocean, sandy toes,
and tan lines.
It was the strong waves
and also the calm.

2017 was loving everyone
I love, unconditionally.
Even if I was hurt.
Even without replies.

2017 was going to the gym,
with the mindset of vanity.
Of looking good,
but not feeling good.

2017 was body image issues,
from skinny to thicc thighs,
starvation and stress eat.
It was never contentment.

2017 was cutting my hair short
when I wanted it to be long.
And I regretted it
right after.

2017 was everything except self love.
It was pain, hatred, pride & anxiety
waking me up in the middle of the night
and keeps me up all night.

I wanted to write something
without biterness & hate
but I’m sorry it turned out like this.
2017 was being sorry most of the time.

Sorry for being this way,
and being alive but ungrateful.
Sorry for sticking to my last hope,
that’s all I’ve got.
and I’m sorry, but I’m still fighting.
I write because you do not see..

those things I feel, those things inside of me..
I write because you cannot hear ..
the voices the ones I hear..

I wright because my heart has been freed..
I write because of the love i have for thee.

I write because I want you to see..
Me...
i write because you can not see...
A couple hours from now, as we are toasting a farewell to a neoteric past, a new year will emerge from the ashes of 2017. Like a phoenix, it will rise again, and sing sweet songs of new beginnings and manifest hope for a better year. We wait for this day in anticipation praying the months to follow will be anything but a repetition of a life once lived. We convince ourselves that we will be more productive, that we will be more active, and that THIS is the year that will change our lives. So we set New Years resolutions, we mark our calendars with exciting new adventures, we establish new goals and reimagine our old dreams hoping that in this new year, we can accomplish them all. But, for many eager and willing people, months will go by without any true transformation. And as the year draws closer to its end, they are again transfixed by old habits and excuses. Their excitement and determination will have faded into the mundanity of reality setting them back to where they were before. For a new year can’t be the driving force for change. A new year shouldn’t be the starting point for innovation. Because refinement shouldn’t be pushed to a certain date and time. And if someone really wants to revolutionize their life, why wait?
everytime a shiver goes up my spine
I can’t help but remember your touch;
the way your fingers laced together against the curve of my back
                                                            ­            while you molded your lips
                                                                     against mine, fusing my skin to yours.

everytime I see you
I see the smile that I fell in love with
and the pool of lust in your eyes


                                    that was enough to bring
                                    me to my knees
                                    before you.

hearing your name brings me back
to our midnight conversations
in the dark,
back when                                                             love was kind                  
                                          ­           and your words planted flowers in my veins

every breath
reminds me that
after everything
                                                 I was not enough
                                             to satisfy your hunger,
that the taste of your lips
was the taste of a
desire so stale
that it could
****
me


now I lay awake
crying in the dark,
wishing for your lips
against mine.
                                                         I just want to die.
just kiss me,
just
****
me...
Dear Daddy,
Do you know what these men say to me?

With their
eyes and their mouths
when I walk on the street.

With a grin and a nod
and a look up and down.
A wink and a kiss
and a cat call heard from downtown.

With my skirt short
and my top
low,
It’s a cold world daddy
and no
doesn’t mean no.

Daddy do you know
how these men look at me?

Like I’m a piece of meat
strutting down the street?
With my head buds in
and my favorite song on.

I’m asking for it Daddy,
I’m in the wrong.

Do you know how it feels
not to wear what I like?

To walk a little faster
when I’m alone at night?

Daddy the world is my predator
and I am it's doe,
Daddy what happens
when I can’t say no?
Next page