She sits in the hospital bed
Anxiously awaiting the news
As the doctor looks between the legs of her newborn child
And the mother cries as she finds out
Whether her baby is a girl of a boy
The sister of the mother calls up the father
She wants to know what kind of toy to buy
For the newborn, blue or pink
It all depends on whether it is a girl or a boy
First day of kindergarten lunch in hand
Backpack on back I enter the class
First activity of the year kids get divvied up
Based off of whether we are a girl or a boy
During the snack break we can go and use the restrooms
Two huge doors with signs that tell me
Which one I should use
It depends on whether I am a girl of a boy
Summer comes and because I ‘m in 5th grade
I am finally old enough to go to sleep away camp
Camp Jihuaga is on a beautiful lake
With miles of land divided into two main sections of cabins
Which side you’re on is based off of whether you are a girl or a boy
Middle school arrives, first dance of the year
All my friends had dates but nobody had asked me
So I set out to find my own date
But they laughed at me and asked
Whether I was a girl or a boy
High school, first day, second period, phys ed
I exit the locker room into the gym
And see a big barrier moving across the middle
And she side I got stuck on reminded me
Of whether I am a girl of a boy
Finally I decide it’s time for me to get a job
So I put together my resume and picked up an application form
I filled everything out perfectly fine
Until I was left with just one question
The paper sat there and asked me
If I am a girl or a boy
And I sat there I hovered and I realized something terrible
All my life I had just automatically assumed I was a girl
There were social conventions set up
A path for me to follow
Since before I had even left the hospital
And because of that I had never stopped and thought
About whether I am a girl of a boy
And I looked at that paper my hand moved back and forth
From each of the choices and I thought to myself
I know I’m not a boy
I’ve known that all my life
But I don’t think I’m a girl
Cause that just doesn’t feel right
And I felt like I’d been lied to for my entire life
All these signs on bathroom doors asking me to pick my choice
Of whether I am a girl of a boy
After a few days of thinking
And a good nights sleep
It cam to me in the shower
As does everything really
But I figured it out
Turns out I’d been looking in the wrong places
Trying to find where I fit in the spectrum of gender
Because I knew it was possible
To be neither a girl nor a boy
So I looked in between
At all of the possible combinations
Of girl and boy and boy and girl
And all of the gender queer and non binary identities
But what I had to do was step out of the boxes
First I stepped out of the box that enclosed the gender binary
Opened myself up to a whole spectrum of genders
Then I stepped out of that box
The one incloseing gender itself
And found a home in the lack of
So next time someone asks me
Whether I am a girl or a boy
I will look them in the eyes
And proudly say I am neither
I am agender
wet streets after the rain
wet thoughts after the lingering
she cavorts in your limbs like a animal unleashed
like a army of fingers seeking to overthrow
like a thought seeking to master
she stumbles on the doorstep
hesitates at the verge of meeting the other
half of her own need
leaving herself empty
leaving herself incomplete
leaving the taste on her lips but no meat to the bone
leaving visions of soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight
the face in the dark room
the surrender of the primal need to speak
any words that are not capitulation
not redaction of proud sworn oath
she lingers in the mornings bathroom
grazing at the edge of a farmland
places where such dreams are grown
but she dare not partake
she cannot think she would suffice
leaving a soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight
a poignant symbol
an emblem of meaningless loss
and the thoughts
i can break free and spill to the page
like lesser beasts escaping the wood on fire
and i see the time rapidly growing thin
a starving creature
the hours flee
room to room
crying out that doom draws near
and its wet touch chills more than skin
it brings rancid thought to breaking open
and spreading across
the once sweet fruit
and within that moment
rain frees me from feeling
all the things that i drowning in
slow with blue waters
slows the race
slower with memory
the thoughts that escape me now
by the blade of waters burning touch
glowing on the the seeking bones marrow
growing on the feeding of this hunger
it vaults into the stars
and its quickening heartbeat
forces free more than words emotion begins to follow
like the priests coming to worship at the temple of death
they bring life to face itself in its endings
words new to my eye spill forth
like bright diamonds like tears
Never have I seen such an Avid Score
Then draw your Players back to your Credit
Once Clocks have wrung your Springs tight before
Now ring Best Conclusions to your Debit
So your Tendons ripe and joined Model Bro
Each with Burned Spectacles for Thigh's attract
And he taught you well; A Flame burning so
Sexy Timbers do kiss your Tongue's Good Act
The Green Elf was right. If you could agree
That Advanced Levels only stunt your Mane
But just Read the Play; And Scripts follow free
Your Lion-Born Instinct is one and the same.
Chelsea has Won. And wore Arsenal's Shirt
The Meaning of which, Tie's Variance still hurts.
I smell fresh wild flowers
Mixed with stagnant water,
Sweet... and you know,
I am all about the scent-sual.
Nothing gets me
Like the smell of wild
Seas of green... pollen floating...
Sun... burning white skin,
Dunes of sand,
Golden Hawk on a fence post,
Red-winged black birds
Water every mile...
Fresh Lake Perch,
Beautiful yellow fish...
Favorite of mine...
This is my Northern love.
This is my...
Make a mark
Show your presence
Do what you deserve
We are all Human
The same blood runs through us
Do what we deserve
We can all make a difference
Choose to show we matter
Before we shatter
Make our marks
Before one Embarks
And goes to extremes
Show that we care
Feel Someones Love
Each of us is rare
So fly like a Dove
Do not give up
Flow like water from a cup
God is not replacing
You will not be held down
If you love oneself
So put on your crown
For you are Your own
Each of has a right
Standing we are not alone
Shine Your Life
We all have a purpose
A Right to be free
Life can act as a Circus
Make your plea
When you finish
Be able to say you conquered
Become your own Minish
Allow to be Honored
We all Have our rights
Rights of ourself
Rights of us all
One thing separates You from Me
In the end, I will be able to say
That I Finally
And when the time dwindles,
and that same body stumbles,
your world all around you
may not or may crumble.
A love-keeper's journal,
written with lust
is not a love journal at all,
bound by false trust.
But no trust
doesn't mean lies.
or a misread eye.
Birthed into routine
and taught by repetition.
Opened up hearts
with new intuition.
Raised in a world
where everything is expected,
and anything different
is highly disrespected.
How much is enough?
Whether gentle or rough,
when your time is spent
and you're done being tough.
Who will spend your time?
Whether negative or right,
in the future or past,
it will be in your sight.
But can one ever-changing soul
just settle down?
Does one choose a favorite song,
and ignore all other sounds?
You may never be different,
but may never be the same,
and to find one person
with one certain name,
Would you be content,
never turn away?
Is it so wrong to wonder?
We swing and we sway.
From one love to another,
from hours to days,
I linger indifferent,
to so many things.
Love is love is love,
and we share it aloft.
Is three such a crowd,
in a bed that's so soft?
From partner to parody,
repeat, and repeat,
we go from one to another,
retreat, and retreat.
Back to square one,
alone all along,
but in the months to come,
love like a song.
Some are sick of duets,
and some like to stand alone,
and some like to see many,
and some like to see clones.
A triangle of fun,
an octagon of plays;
A partnership hole,
with so many days.
You lust what you must,
and you think what you might.
You go with your trust,
and you follow your light.
A variety of comfort,
spread across the globe,
with people being human
and that's how it goes.
Some have no idea,
and live inside the box.
Some see the sticky tape
but would rather see not.
the miles between point a
and b are too many
but as always, the race is on
...and oh, yes
i am in a race
of my own creation
brain calculates and recalculates
(is that an officer of the law?)
i practice the smoothest curves
but at the same time
sweet sassy maggy
follow the rules
don't forget the coffee for the love of god
make it to the one gas station by 7
for fuck's sake, get around the blue car
the black car
the raggedy old truck
before the exit or you know
you. are. screwed. for. miles.
for christ's sake, use all your goddamn skill
to get a around a stupid slow truck
or a semi
before thou shall not pass
or you know your rage will be uncontrollable
things are going well
you feel confident...you will be on time
you are flying and no one can touch you
your driving is flawless
that crazy sun is shining
and the bass is vibrating your bones
and then t i m e s l o w s
as William H. Macy, you see it
it's that fucking Kia Sportage
adrenaline shoots into my veins
and i slam into manual
woman cruising like you're on a lazy sunday drive
smoking a cigarette like it's 1950.
don't you know that i'm in a race,
and you are my nemesis?
Standing on the ledge of the building, the wind steering her from her fall, the girl gazed out to the city lights. The night was cool, the air gust fatal, but she paid no mind. She let the wind whip at her dark curly hair, closed her eyes as the sky begged, no, pulled for her to follow it. Such a playful force of nature the wind was. It wanted her to play to her death. Even on a thought such as this, she didn't care.
She was the one who brought herself to the fourth floor roof. She wouldn't question the elements for her own decisions made now.
The street bellow was a black river, chalked with line strips, calling her to land.
Once there, she couldn't deny it right?
She let her arms spread out...
Took a deep breath and smiled...
Yes, we where all once there.
I've seen you take my friends
Now you're after me
The black tar in the sky
An addiction we can't beat
I was told to follow an angel
Never expected a bumpy road
Now it's in my pocket
and only the devil knows
What have we become?
Soon it will be to dark to see
My angel that once led the way,
now has abandoned me
Tears or tar down my face
Can't even close my eyes
For the devil has won the battle
Yet the war is still mine to fight
The moon is unsure of himself,
He hides his face in shadows,
Shy of the world,
Showing only half his being at a time.
He is imperfect,
His skin puckered,
He has faults and wrinkles,
Dents and cracks.
He doesn't follow guidelines of how he should be.
But, my dear,
He is by far the most beautiful thing
I have yet to set my eyes upon.
Perfection is over rated.