coexistence: intr.v. to live in peace with another or others despite differences, especially as a matter of policy.
she had a bumper sticker on the back of her car
with the word
made up of differences
that at the time seemed impossible
to be able to live in the
same world
that car was my childhood
even though i never really took
the time to think
about interwoven
ideas until now
when it feels like
values are being torn in half
with a line down the middle
separating
good from good from bad from bad
in greyscale
coexistence seems possible in many things. but as much as i want it to be, i don't think this is one of those things.
and i'm not ready to lose friends over this when i'm not even sure what i believe.
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
it hurts when you realize
that you aren't a necessity
to someone
that they don't need you
in their life
by their side
to survive
seeing someone that is that part
chameleon
is less horrifying
and more of a let down
because even if you're not there
they'll be fine
because they're your necessity
and you'll scramble around
until you find them
or someone even
on the farthest edge of orbit to cling to
because your cham aches in past loneliness
that no matter how hard you try
is always at the back
of your mind
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
at the edge of humanity’s consciousness
a river flows through guitar chords of thoughts,
rocks and
stones caught in its
winding depths
the river drags seafoam upstream
gently claiming it
as if that which it touches is it’s own
and always has been
the foam only shrugs shyly,
an awkward smile slipping over its face,
that adds salt
in pinches
turning to idle sugars
-would anything-
the river responds to the projected call of a sand dollar
one that waters could never have dreamed of holding
so serenely
and it’s
like the world is beginning
all over again
that’s how it
should
feel
the sand dollar answers in sweet
sincerity
lightly clinging to
the pull of the waves
and it would be perfect if not
for
-have happened-
heaven’s reeds are
the root of heartache
and they drift down the Lithe
pulling everything
angelically
destructive
-if I didn’t-
-reach out-
-my hand?-
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:43 AM UTC
February 23, 2019:
Freddie Mercury tells Mary Austin
“I think I’m bisexual”.
And my heart beats like mad
Because no one else has connected to
A secret like this before
No one else notices
The drum beats of my chest
This isn’t even one of the three times
Tears fall
Unhindered
Pt. 1:
He tells his band
His family
That he has it
It’s an ending that is known to the world
But in the moment
Aids is not life-shattering
Because of the sun that filled his soul
And it fills theirs
As they promise
To break a hole in the sky
Pt. 2:
His hand rests gently upon
Jim Hutton’s
It’s accepted
His arms wrap around
His father
And his father’s wrap around him
It’s accepted
Pt. 3:
The opening bars
To chords
That only hours ago
I’d deemed my favorite
Begin to play and his life
And its end are played out with it
I’m glad he got his happy ending
Through drops of water
I tell my dad
That this is it
(Unbidden) Pt. 3:
I researched immediately after the dream-like
To see if that’s all it was
A dream
I try to explain
But my mother is stuck on the
Anti
To something she didn’t even know
Graced my reveries
I push down doubts
Doubts that have filled the both of us
Him and I
That still linger
But
It’s a moment of light projected into
My soul
A moment so gold-coated
That a vision of the same words almost
Leave my lips
And fill the comfortable silence
Of my dad’s car
They don’t
But unfazed I vow
To remember
Golden
Silver
Bronzed
Freddie Mercury
When they do.
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
Words connect
So elegantly
So easily
In this time after
The birds have stopped singing
So that my
Whispered
thoughts can be heard
And I can take a few heartbeats
To accept
Who I've become
To try to drown out a
Weakened jealousy
With a true
Weakened happiness
That inspires me
With its sincerity
No matter how small
Or tightrope-balanced it might be
Because it's a start
I always knew I was a creative type
Grades perfect
But heart wandering
Over misted mountains
And soaring with words that catch my mind
So much more that
Fact
It's the honey in
Place of the
Traditionally monetized
Vinegar that
I could taste
And live off of
But it'd leave a sour taste in my mouth
And I'd either choke
And ruin something important
Or just spit it out
Because of a lack of pain tolerance
At this time when
No one is awake
No one is around
I'm able to piece
Thought after thought together
On a never-ending string
Of what are most likely over
slightly
Dramatized phrases
The emotions are raw
But raw is so biting
And out there
So like the creative I am
I add a bit of sugar
To try to replicate a personal
Checked-box perfection
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC