I read old letters hoping to take in the love of the past.
It's like eating stale bread in war times hoping it's enough to fill that roars into the light and dark.
It's leftover love yet I devour it hoping it heals my broken-heart.
I read old letters yet there was a time where the letters sustained hope in me.
It's leftover love and the more I read of the past, the more it breaks my heart.
It's leftover love and it no longer brings me hope yet I devour it to revive what is left of my heart.

Drinking mimosas and taking down the Christmas tree.
Watching superhero movies.
Feeling the slowness of time.

It was you and me; now it is only me.
It was you and me, I hope he loves you right.
It was you and me; we were together for a month and a half.
It was you and me; our nights at my house were amazing.
It was you and me; I am glad you moved on and we are just friends.
It was you and me; I am glad neither of us regret what we had.

It Snows and we aren't expected to stop living.
It Snows and we live despite the brutality of life.
It Snows and we live with our decisions.
It Snows and we live with ourselves.
It Snows and life continues whether we want it to or not.
We live with heartache yet we act like it isn't there.
We live with depression yet we act like we aren't lonely.
We live with anxiety yet we act like the tremors aren't there.
So live and stop acting. Face the feelings and be free.

Forever Ago, you were in my arms as we cuddled nakedly together in my bed.
Forever Ago, you told my dad we were a couple.
Forever Ago, you told the whole town about our nights.
Forever Ago, I called a ****** for being with you by people I didn't know.
Forever Ago, you were mine.

That of a broken-heart better than lovesick for with this broken-heart I know our love was true.
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick; I still remember your soft lips against mine and how you smiled as you were in my arms as my hands shook.
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick for we said we loved each other and we meant it.
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick because you said, "I don't regret what we had and would do it again; I am glad to say, "It's better to have loved and lost than not at all."
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick for one day my broken-heart will heal and you will be a scar on my heart better than lovesick because our love was real.
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick even though you are with someone else, I know we were happy together.
That of a broken-heart better than lovesick, I want you to know you weren't just an experience to me, you were my lover.

I saw you at the coffee shop yesterday.
You were with your boyfriend.
I am glad you moved on.
You said, "I don't regret we had and would do it again."
I am glad we are still friends.
You smiled at me and I smiled back.
Your boyfriend was jealous of how you looked at me.
Thank you for defending me to your boyfriend.

My little sister blasting music.
My mom watching television at a blaring volume.
My dad watching YouTube videos on his phone at a deafening tone.
All of us waiting to go to my Grandma Kay's apartment.

Thank you readers and poets for my poetry and I!
I would be no where without you guys and gals.
Merry Christmas Eve! Enjoy the holidays!

Truth to be known I am good. I am excited for my new hours.
Truth to be known each woman I loved made me better.
Truth to be known I don't regret anything.
Truth to be known my past makes me who I am.
Truth to be known I love my job and the people I work with.
Truth to be known I don't mind being called a ****** for who I love.

Be yourself, they will judge anyways.
Be yourself, things will change eventually.
Be yourself, things are better when you aren't trapped in other people's worlds so create your own.
Be yourself, have your own opinions so you don't lose yourself.
Be yourself, have your own perspective so they don't drown you in confusion.
Be yourself and you will be free.

Through refiner's fire I am becoming more me.
Iron in the Fire, Looking into the past to launch myself to the future.
Iron in the Fire, Reading old letters and seeing what has changed.
Iron in the Fire, Glad I am no longer in the closet.
Iron in the Fire, And I feel more free.

I am alright. I have a job I love and coworkers that are amazing.
I am alright. When I work I can be myself. My boss is thinking of upping my hours since I am such a good job at work.
I am alright. Even though I am distant from my church life. I prefer my work life. I won't stop going to church but I will be working more.
I am alright. And finally I can say that honestly.
I am alright. And nothing is better than that.

Anyone else feel alone? Because I feel so distant from the life I was raised in. Maybe I was always distant from my church life I just didn't notice.
A World Alone from my church friends because I don't want to be a chasten woman.
A World Alone from my church friends because I have faith but I am openly bisexual.
A World Alone from my church friends because I already lost my virginity to a girl in college. It was a perfect night.
A World Alone from my church friends because even though I have an innocent girl act for them, at heart I am a rebel.
A World Alone from my church because I refuse to be ignorant.
A World Alone from my church friends because I prefer to marry a woman.

Light blue sky and icy wind blowing on the library.
People passing through and checking out books.

I found the old you in a letter. You had so much humanity.
I found the old you in a letter. You were afraid to lose me as a friend.
I found the old you in a letter. Too bad you turned into someone I didn't recognize. You used to be a sweet guy then college turned you into a monster.
I found the old you in a letter. Maybe you were always a monster but I couldn't see it in your handsome dark pink smile and charming blue green eyes.
I found the old you in a letter. Truly I am sorry our friendship didn't last forever. But you were trapped in your misery and you wanted me to be miserable with you. When honestly I was trapped in your world too long so you lost me at your monstrous ways. When you lost your humanity, you lost me as a friend.
I found the old you in a letter. Why couldn't you just stay a sweet guy? The answer is I don't know.

The Sweet Girl and the dimple on her right cheek when she smiles.
The Sweet Girl said she will message me on Messenger when she wants to hangout with me.
I love The Sweet Girl's voice for it makes my days at work better.
The Sweet Girl has this way of getting cuter with each passing day.
Today she had her chestnut brown hair in a ponytail and wore a yellow flannel. It emphasized her prominent cheekbones. I couldn't help it but stare at how beautiful she is.

Dark blue sky and icy wind blowing against the library.
Silence as the sky turns a deeper shade of blue.
Listening to music and thinking about the Sweet Girl's smile.
And how the night sky looks like her eyes.

The church or my sanity.
I would prefer to keep my sanity.
The people I work with are like my family.
I am already distant from my church friends anyways.
I believe in Jesus, The Holy Spirit and God.
It's just if they can't accept that I am bisexual then they don't accept me. My work family accepts me and that's enough.

She looks down on everyone.
Her venomous glare from idiotic old men to young poets.
She is content behind her computer.
Her salt and pepper colored hair and bright pink lipstick.
If you annoy her then she raises her voice.

Nothing is the same.
The Girl with Green Eyes and I barely speak to each other when we used to be inseparable.
Nothing is the same.
I am out of the closet to everyone I know but not to the people I go to church with then again they would never understand.
Nothing is the same.
I am proud of who I am and I like the job I work at.

Shower to wash away my dark thoughts.
Letting the waters drench me.
Shower to clean me of sweatiness from walking around town.
Shower to stop thinking of the past.

I go to the coffee shop on my days off hoping I will meet the one but nothing.
I think I need to join a dating app. Maybe then I will meet the one.

I dreamt about you last night.
And when I woke up to see you weren't here cuddling with me.
I felt alone. But I am okay.

Those dark blue eyes and her laughter make my days at work better.
I like how she tells me stories about her life.
I like how she glances at me and smiles.
I like how I feel around her.
I like how I can tell her anything.

People rushing by without a second thought.
People rushing by, couples walking, children looking at the different colors and I walked by myself.
People rushing by, getting Christmas gifts and people going to church while I walk home with fancy coffee in hand because I already did my Christmas shopping.
People rushing by forgetting to enjoy the adventures of Christmas when in the end we will die one day.

What am I mad with? For if I am mad with love. Who is it for?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with desire. Why is it swallowing me whole?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with death. What am I mourning?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with courage. What is my sacrifice?
What am I mad with? For if I am mad with sorrow. What am I sad about?

I am hoping she still wants to be more than friends with me.
For when her navy blue eyes look into my coffee brown eyes, my heart races and I forget my worries.
Oh how she smiles in my direction I just want to kiss her again and again.

Taking meds and drinking coffee.
Going to downtown so I get bored in my house.
Still in my pajamas and going to get dressed for today's adventures. Even though it's my Tuesday routine.

She has dark blue eyes, black glasses and a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
She has a slender body, chestnut brown hair and when she looks me with her dark blue eyes I forget what I am doing so I smile back.
She is beautiful in ways I try to understand from the way she laughs to the way she walks. So I appreciate her beauty with each glance in her direction.
She is confident, smart, funny, vivacious and beautiful. I know she isn't mine to love but I hope whoever she loves, loves her the way she deserves to be loved.
I still care about her even if she isn't mine to love.

I can't be straight and I refuse to be a chasten woman.
I don't want a chaste marriage.
I want passionate love not a boring, white picket fence marriage.
That may have worked in the 1950s. But it is not the 1950s.
There is more to life than faith in Christ.
I can't be them so I am myself.
With all my sanity I refuse to be them. I refuse to be them because I used to be them. Ignorant and thinking all there was the church.
In the metaphorical closet I was insane, thinking I was trapped there forever. Then I found my people at college. I came out the closet and fully became me.

Hiding in Plain Sight, yet no one at church can see the real me, all they see is my faith and that is all there is to them.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet they don't the blue, purple and pink of the true colors of my heart and I know there is more to life than just faith.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet I bite my tongue thinking I will slip up and tell them I am not straight. When I know that if I did tell them I am not straight they would rebuke me for being me.
Hiding in Plain Sight, I am proud to be bisexual. Yet when I look around at the church I was raised in, I know I would lose all my church friends.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet none of them see me.

Thing about bipolar disorder. There is no cure and it's a mental illness.
The thing about bipolar disorder, I can be depressed for no reason or I can be restless for no reason.
The thing about bipolar disorder, there are times I see shadows moving not attached to anything.
The thing about bipolar disorder it can only be treated with antidepressants or an SSRI.

Blonde hair and black glasses.
Light tan skin and dark blue eyes.
One night, long ago.
One time her older brother waved at me from his ******* truck and said, "My little sister talks about you all the time."
I smiled and waved back. Saying nothing as he drove past me.

The thing about being autistic, I have been getting all sorts of therapy since I was 3 years old. From reading, writing and speaking.
The thing about being autistic, I am brutally honest and super-empathetic. I have been able to pick up on other people's emotions for as long as I can remember. It's like getting glue on your hands, you peel off the layers of glue and it seems like a second skin.
The more I am around people the more their emotions stick to me so when I walk away I get to breath and focus on my own emotions.
The thing about being autistic, nobody wants to talk about it because it makes people uncomfortable. There is no cure to being autistic. It's something you are born with and it's a mental disability.
The thing about being autistic, and being called a special needs adult isn't any different from being a special needs kid. The Americans with Disabilities Act still helps me as an adult like getting a job and keeping a job. It's up to me whether I want to disclose it or not as a person with a mental disability.

What is love?
Love is selfless devotion. Love is being who you are with someone else. Love is getting used to being single and learning to be more you.
Love is finding ways to be proud of yourself.

I used to carry such hatred for people way back when because I hated repressing my love for women.
I didn't realize the hate was eating me alive so when I met a queer person at youth group that hatred faded and I filled up with compassion.
I still didn't what queer was at the time but I had unconditional love for this queer person then I realized I am queer too when I was in high school, my senior year.
Then in college, one of my best friends told me what bisexuality is and I realized I am bisexual. Eventually I got over my internalized biphobia and the rest is history.

As we walk these paths, may we change the world.
As we walk these paths, may we change the statistics.
As we walk these paths, may we walk to freedom.
As we walk these paths, may we walk to courage.

I left a trail of footprints in the snow as I walked today because I am here.
I smiled as I walked because I am here.
I am alive and free to be me because I am here.
I am here, I am queer and I am totally done with existential fear.

I can feel the fire raging inside of me.
I keep it bay by journaling and writing poetry.
Yet the fire rages because I am sick and tired of hiding in the closet.
The fire rages because I want to tell them there is more to life than just chastity and purity culture.
The fire rages because I want to tell them how satisfying and amazing it is to kiss a girl.
But I know they will never understand because they are ignorant to the truth and spirit that thrive in the lgbtq community.

Warm sun and the snow is melting.
Still frigid but with a warmth that is homely.
Even though my hometown never really felt like home to me until now because I have a job where they don't mind that I am openly bisexual.
My hometown don't mind that I am openly bi. Yet my church and my mom minds because to them it's different and what is different needs to be silenced.
It's like outside, warm from the sun but cold from the snow.

I am Trapped in Two Worlds. One World where people of the church think I am straight when I am not. Another World where the people of my work place know that I am openly bisexual and everyone in this town knows that I am openly bisexual.
Yet when I am at church I can't talk about ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends because to them I am straight... I am not. In that World, I keep my mouth shut and just blend in. In that World, I suffocate from being in the closet around them and the boredom of vanity through small talk because nothing ever changes in the church...
In the Other World, I am free to myself as an openly bisexual woman.
In the Other World, I don't have to care what anyone thinks of me because they know who I am... so do I.

Lost in your night blue eyes and how your giggles of those nights.
I remember how I trailed kisses along your light tan, soft slender body.
I remember how we cuddled. I remember how you smiled into each kiss on the lips.
I remember how your long, dark brown hair tickled my bare skin.
We still exchange smiles when I see you.
Then I remember that you are my ex-girlfriend. And I am glad you aren't mad at me.

The endless, light blue sky holds humanity underneath like cold blanket.
Of winter morn, people going to business meetings, people still buying Christmas presents and waiting for the end of the year.
The endless, light blue sky for one I am seeing today, you are seeing too.
The endless, light blue sky of winter morn, where ice is like glass and snow crunches under foot.

Morning, drinking coffee and taking my meds.
Morning as the sun emphasizes the snow of yesterday.
Morning as being awake and alive to being grateful for both.

Frigid night as the snow continues to fall.
People at the library.
Deep, navy blue sky.
Clicking of computer keys and the sweet smell of books.

Dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes.
Dark pink lips and pale skin.
She slept with me for one night, months ago.
She liked how timid I was at church for Saturday night service.
She was so focused that night. She was gentle with me.
I still see her at church. After that night she got a boyfriend and nowadays she is married to that guy.
As the church would have it she became a virtuous woman for her husband.
While I am just myself: a bisexual poet.

I saw you drive past me.
I saw your dark brown hair and ocean blue eyes.
I saw you for a split second and my heart skipped a beat.
I saw you and for a split second I forgot my father sitting next to me in the car.

The whoosh of going down snowy slopes.
Walking back up the snowy ***** out of breath.
Fresh wind pumping my veins.
Coughing out the fresh wind at the bottom of the *****.
Almost too much wind pumping through my veins.
Freedom and being alive at the whoosh going down the snowy slopes.

Snowflakes falling from gray clouds.
Layer of Snow covering the browns and oranges of Fall.
Cold temperatures and winter coats.