see the thing about
fighting for someone you love
is this:
when you’re fighting against a force
that is splitting you in two
opening you up to see
what your insides are really made of
then it’s a battle.
it’s noble and it’s good
and you are not alone
but when the force steps aside
and awakens you
but not your beloved
you must drop your weapons
remove your helmet and your gauntlets
and your blistering will to carry on
because once you realize that
the one you were fighting for
is now the one you’re fighting against
then, my dear,
then it is a war
and you have already had your fair share
of violence.

bakers dozens of country miles
couldn't keep the drug out.
vinyl records and chalkboard elephants
gone with the wind.
with the run of a hand.

we never let the bread rise.
always kneading away,
putting out fires before they start
and missing the drought
in front of you.

the wind rattles my straw house,
so i feed the Wolf
to get some quiet.

eating the ****** weapon and
wearing the fur.
i have nothing to say so i ramble,
and think about what i should buy you for christmas
and how ill give it to you without
tripping the wires
you keep around me

there are people on the internet
who will always know more about me
than my parents do.
they’ll see my tagline and
they’ll feel it
the same way that i feel it
the rush that comes with that
very first introduction
the freedom that tags along
on the coattails of
a name that at least one person
will keep as yours
they’ll feel the sadness
that comes with the moment
that someone you love
turns out to not love you back
well, not you
specifically, but
your kind
as they say
they’ll feel the dread
that comes with the look
in someone’s eyes when they
find out about everything
they’ll feel the excitement
that comes along with
the first smile that a stranger gives you
when you introduce yourself
and they don’t question
your very existence
or turn your greeting into a debate
they’ll feel the solidarity.
they’ll feel the community.
two words that i broadcast
to everyone except the two people
who gave me two different words
before they even asked what i liked.

mom. dad.
i’m not your baby girl.
i love you.
this is me
this is who i am
and who i am
isn’t going anywhere.

i hope one day
you’ll learn to love him.