Her world revolves in such a different circle from mine.
The key to life is healing and creating. It's harder to do the hard things, for creating is more difficult than destroying. But most times the hard things bring better things.
That's what my mother wanted me to know.
Oct 24, 2022
Oct 24, 2022 at 7:21 PM UTC
These are our bodies.
Our bodies are whole.
Our bodies are queer.
Our bodies are disabled.
Our bodies are trans.
Our bodies are beautiful.
Our bodies are sacred and
Our bodies are so much more.
Our bodies are ours.
Now, our bodies are regulated.
Our bodies are controlled.
Our bodies are governed.
Our bodies are despised.
Our bodies are demonized and dismissed.
They are objectified.
Our bodies are not ours.
All the little children who will grow up thinking this is okay.
All the people who have been demonized by society,
Already clobbered over the head by oppression and
Stripped naked of their humanness, who were
Further stripped of their dignity and power this morning.
It’s dismembering the spirit.
Jul 1, 2022
Jul 1, 2022 at 6:22 PM UTC
I will never let you see me unedited.
I always want to put makeup on before anybody sees me.
I never let anybody read my unedited poetry.
I am terrified you will see who I am and dislike it.
I will make sure to package myself neatly into a box,
Perfectly ready for shipping and taped up nicely
Until I suffocate from the plastic wrapping.
I won't ever stop.
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 2:02 AM UTC
Sugar is sweet,
but it stings the back of your throat
if you eat too much of it.
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 11:18 PM UTC
I want to breathe,
break Earth open,
seize it’s captivators that hold it
trapped in an encapsulating spider’s web.
We are stuck in the muck and we can’t get out!
Once you crack Earth open,
steam will rise like roses
reborn from its center.
The core is shaking,
vibrating my mind inside
the skull that aches.
A time bomb usually
runs out of seconds.
When will release come?
Feel the decay, don’t fuel it.
Nature corrodes everything,
that’s part of why I’m screaming
because the time when it is reborn
seems hidden from my reach.
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 10:25 PM UTC
Dear human,
I want you to view me in a light
that you are not wise enough to see.
Your eyes have not aged enough
to identify the particular hues I consist of.
I am a spectrum of majestic experiences.
I attempt to recognize the fullness of humans,
beautiful and difficult, for all that they are.
You could never do this as I do.
The difference is stunningly stark.
A rainbow on one side, yet
darkness on the other.
Your irises are too monochromic-
not enough color in them.
I feel we gain colors as we
experience; as we learn.
You simply lack in that area, my dear.
I wish you didn’t.
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 10:16 PM UTC
We are validation seeking suckers
Who are too blinded by fog
To see that we must validate
Ourselves.
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 10:04 PM UTC
The thing about art is your brain has to be clear enough for you to spin your pain into fabric that is processable by the public. Sometimes cobwebs crowd us too much to be able to turn our ideas into anything.
Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 10:03 PM UTC
Let me decay into this garden.
Leave me slouching on the bench.
I'll blend into the roses after a while -
That’s all my body is good for this year.
I'll nourish Earth as it has nourished us all
With our deep red blood and water-logged skin.
Leave me in peace, please give me silence.
Here, I can be sedentary in solitude;
Blend into the ground;
Feed the worms and heal the trees.
Don’t feed me anything more.
Don’t cover me with clothing.
Don’t sustain my slouching frame.
Just let me wane in the wilderness
Where my skin is cold in the dampness
But heated by the melty sun that will soon be sleeping.
This mound is where I want to sit
Exactly as I am.
If I am going to die, I will die in this grass
With a bench below my thighs
And my toes gracing whatever green
Grows beneath them.
Let me fly, when the sun finally sets.
When the orange pool goes away
Is when I shall decay for a better place
Where my spirit has no knots or tangles,
Where strands of DNA unfurrow,
And every skin cell slips into the sludge that is rest,
And I can stretch my sentiments out on a cotton cloth,
Dye the fabric with my natural colors,
And that is all that's left of me in your world.
Like flowers drying on brick steps laid next to a trickling stream
Is how I leave the earthlings behind;
The creatures that constitute the land we run through,
Like ribbons of bliss that always fight for oxygen
Then drop like dead flies falling from diminished clouds,
Like a clump of rain that slaps your skin to remind you that
Pain is a part of being.
Bugs will bite. Splinters will sting.
Knives will cut. Skin always splits.
But when you sit under rose thorns and
Accept that your blood is as red as their fruit’s petals,
You will see we all bleed and our blood is sweet for a reason, and
Roses smell heavenly for good reason.
Apr 24, 2022
Apr 24, 2022 at 3:49 AM UTC
Sitting on my bed waiting for the depression to hit because I know the mania is wearing off
Feb 19, 2022
Feb 19, 2022 at 8:05 PM UTC