Sometimes I feel
like I'm standing in a pile
of glass and stones,
and ashes of bridges
burnt to a crisp.
A pile of a family home
that
could be,
should be,
glistening in the dry desert air
as if it were a diamond
formed from love and compassion.
This endless loop of family feuds,
turmoil and strife,
lands us nowhere but to continue the status quo.
You say I'll learn,
and maybe you're right,
but I'd rather try to
rebuild bridges
than keep this house
a shattered mess.
Stones previously thrown,
can make a path
over hot desert sand,
and glass can be repaired,
our house can be rebuilt
and our family reunited.
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
E is for Emotion
that overwhelmed me my first day
S is for Stress,
how will my life change?
Will my changes be noticeable?
T is for Tension
I had with my dad
When I first started questioning my gender
R is for reflection,
as I sit in my room
making sure of my feelings
O is for overjoyed most of the time
D is for depression that keeps creeping in
I is for intense dysphoria that's starting to fade
A is for aches and pains that started after a month
L is for life, that I want to live on.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
I've always felt
like the black sheep of the family,
isolating myself with a collection of drugs and
probably self destructive behavior.
Take me
apart,
and you'll find a noose fashioned into a heart
tugging at my emotions
while I struggle to find myself in a sea of
vague feelings and LSD fever dreams.
Short fuse,
lit like the fire of a burning heart,
uncontrollable (maybe it feels good?),
yet always regretful in the end.
A stream of "You're useless" and
"you made her how she is"
How could I say that?
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 2:26 PM UTC
The words flash across my screen
in comments of facebook pictures
and news articles.
Why are you still calling HER a he?
How do you think that makes most of us feel?
The fear and uncomfortableness,
like a pink elephant in the room that no one seems to notice
lingers in most of our minds.
Gender has nothing to with
what's between your legs or
how you were born;
but rather, it sits in your mind
dragging along all your insecurities:
you don't even feel safe in your own body.
I am not a person of gender
rather, I'm a blank slate.
To think
her coming out is a publicity stunt
is quite alarming
I have to wonder:
when did that door in your mind close?
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
My hand clutches a dripping red knife,
in front of me
lays my baby boy
dead as all hell.
On the table lies a sturdy rope.
I...I had my reasons
I think to myself,
a pool of tears mixes with the blood running out of my only offspring.
More tears leaking off my face as if it were Niagara Falls
He was bullied a lot..
Being highly autistic,
bullies had an easy target, y'know?
He came home sobbing daily,
telling me the principal never did ****
Well, I called that sonovabitch,
and with no action after two weeks
I decided to take it upon myself.
Sobbing heavily,
I called my son into the kitchen
told him I needed help setting the table.
Its just us here since his dad passed away you know.
That's when it happened.
He turned around,
I forced myself to push in the knife
my eyes bloodshot and welled up with tears
as I hear his last screams
and then he falls silent, collapsing down to the floor,
my breath short gasps of air and I choke on my tears as I struggle to comprehend my actions.
I grab the rope,
tying it in a noose on a steel beam on the ceiling as I stand on a chair
and take one last look at my deed.
I'll see you soon, I love you
stepping off the chair, everything cuts to black.
I love you
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC
I was born into the age where computers have always been within arms reach,
information flowing faster than the speed of light
and I'm terrified.
We are no longer a free people
our info has been sold,
our souls have been collected in exchange for facebook likes
and shallow popularity.
God lives in our computers
preaching, and casting judgement among others,
while thinking we'll never get caught for posting that picture of 4 am **** rips and white dust spread on the table.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
His bed is the ocean
created by tears flowing
from heart ache and abuse,
but also tears of joy
that gently rock him to sleep at night, cradling his every thought, collecting in his head like stars in the sky.
The constellations of his mind forming songs, and poems and god knows what that boy can dream of.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
The smoke rises from the cigarette
she puffs as if moments from her life
were floating away.
Each puff tearing away another fragment,
every story stripped away from her.
But she needs it.
Like some sort of
magical elixir
that maybe, somehow, might ease the pain.
Her paper heart has been duck taped back together
too many times;
there are holes where her love should be,
filled with alcohol soaked corks and anything else that could
heal her fragile heart, white with powder.
She snorts lines of hope on her dresser in the morning,
little crystals that shine brightly in the sun, neatly clumped like long rows of sand in the desert forming long hills. Eventually, she thinks, I'll be free of this paper heart.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 3:19 AM UTC
We fly our kites at night
in the river of light flowing from the moon
down to our skin.
The crisp summer air cuts along our arms
as we fly along,
tripping on our love.
You raise yr skinny fists like antennas to the heavens
praying this night will never end.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
Darkness fills my room,
Windows shut out
like my heart,
black as night.
Clutched in my arms
is my last picture of you.
why did you have to leave? i miss you so.
I'd gladly walk to the end of the world
tie my heartstrings into a lasso
to pull you back to me,
or maybe a noose,
and i'll kick the bucket.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC