I.
I don't think I
ever
spoke to you
at all.

II.
Gone and
killed yourself at
college.

III.
Funny the first words I'd ever say to you
would be a goodbye
you'd never
hear.

I.
They asked me to write an essay
depicting the
glories of the
American Dream.

II.
I couldn't, but
I wrote three pages
easily.

III.
They were
the wrong three pages -
I told them about
Natives Americans
torn from homelands.

IV.
I told them about
police brutality,
the things going on in Ferguson,
and the media coverage of war overseas.

V.
I told them about
separation of church and state
and how that ought to look.

VI.
I told them
I'm not sure if I can write an essay about the glories of equality
in a country where
I do not feel equal.

I.
They are
sweeter
then anyone
who's cleaner.

II.
Mostly
a little drunk
maybe ******
I was sober
and they said
"Good on you"
and
"Why though"

III.
I have gotten
a hundred more hugs
and shared food
and offers of a jacket
to keep off the cold
in a few hours with strangers
who form this family
then with my own
family
and many of my friends.

IV.
I felt
so *******
safe there.

I.
It looks like
fog
from my window

II.
The hum of my
air purifier
blots everything out
sound wise

III.
And outside
everything is covered in
the gray
haze.

IV.
When I leave my room
my lungs -
already weak and
malfunctioning, on the best of days -
choke,
cough,
and reject what I put in them.

V.
I hope
the fires
clear up.

I.
I need you to understand
that when I wear a skirt
it's cross-dressing.

II.
It is not
"Going back to
being a girl"
it is not
"Accepting my femininity"

III.
It is
cross-dressing,
a skirt does not mean
I am female
again.

I.
His middle name
shall be his own.

II.
He shall
cast off the legality of
what he was given
on a certificate.

III.
His middle name will be
Confidence.

I.
Speak
a word
of love,
and you fall on
dead ears.

II.
Speak a word of
hate,
and you're written down,
as sin in a walking form.