I like it when people pat themselves down
to make sure they have
all of their belongings before they leave.

It's even better
when they mutter the words
out loud
to themselves.

Spectacles, Testicles, Wallet, and Watch.


I like it when people's faces light up
when they are waiting for a friend,
and finally spot them.

I like it when people get startled
and apologize for it.
Like their fear may have
inconvenienced you.

I like when people look around
and make eye contact with strangers
when the subway slows down
or stops unexpectedly.

I like it when a large group of people witness something strange,
so strange
that they are forced
to talk about it
with people they may never see again.

I like it when somebody drops something,
and a stranger chases after them to return it,
even if it's just a mitten.

I like it when someone asks for a light
from a stranger, and they get one.
Even better if the stranger
lights their smoke
for them.

I like it when people ask for directions,
and the person giving them
uses large hand gestures.

I like it when crossing guards
protect grown adults.

I like seeing a couple during their honey moon phase.
All over each other and a little bit
inappropriate.

I like ti when babies make eye contact with you
as they pass by on their parents back.

I Like when several people stop
to admire a cute dog.

I like it when pedestrians
are nearly hit by a careless driver,
and all stop to talk **** about them
for a moment.

I like it when people casually
sing, hum, or whistle.

I like it when several people
have to gather around a small device
because they all want to see what's happening
together.  

I like seeing children I don't know
trudging home
in the snow
with toboggans,
rosy cheeked
and daydreaming of hot chocolate.

I like catching someone taking a selfie.

I like it when people open their palms to check if it's raining,
even though they can probably see that it is.

I like seeing people reading on the train.

I don't know.

Human's can be cute.

We couldn't be,
because she knew
I loved her.

I wish I knew why
that was wrong.

I can't be with you
because
I know you love me.

I remember her
face when I shut the door.

The way she bit her tongue
and called her mother
to drive me home.

They dropped me off in the rain,
when the pain
was just setting in.

I don't think I've ever been the same
since.

She knew
I loved her,
and yet she still
let me in.

She ****** on my heart
She played pretend.

"I can't be with you because I know you're in love with me."

She's a ghost to me now,
and that's why it still hurts.

I didn't do anything to her.

I just loved her,
and that's what I told her
the last time we spoke.

I wish this were a joke but.

It still hurts.

H if you're out there.

Please.

Give me the time
to at least,

Say

Something.

Like a river,
time can flow.

It can be stagnant.  

Mid morning nightmares for breakfast.

Some bad coffee,
from some bad place.

I face the day
like I face
my reflection.

Hesitantly,  
with teeth barring.

Lips curled,
into a suggestive
smile.

Stagnent,

like a swamp.

Of some forgotten tomorrow, over

yonder.

At least I remember the sweet song of the mourning dove.

the

Morning,

Dove.

I guess,
instead of anger
I feel sadness.

I guess,
that is apart
of growing up.  

Memories slip between cotton sheets, plaid underwear.

Voices seep between thin walls, thin thighs.

School bus rides.

The ones on the way to a field trip.

Belly's flip, sun kissed.

Sitting in the back of the bus just to feel it, to feel the...

I don't know who I am anymore.

Memories passed like green grass

green screen, green memory
greened out.

Fade to black,
or so she thought.

So she said.

Maybe it's all in my head,
maybe it's a nursery rhyme,
a rhyme or a reason,

maybe I'm late, maybe it's the wrong season.

Some days I want to look femme, and cute, and pretty.

Other days I want to look as masc as possible. Hard, tough, scary.

And then there are some days
in between,
where I guess I feel
most like myself.

I am learning to accept
and love all aspects of myself.

And to not hyper fixate
on my gender expression.

Some days are easier than others.

Some days I go to work in a skirt
and halfway through I feel
incredibly uncomfortable.

But other days
I feel ****.

Some days I got to work
in basketball shorts and a T-Shirt
and feel relaxed and hot

but then halfway through
I feel messy and underdressed.

I think it's my in between days
that I feel the most myself.

Little Pants, Big Top.

Big Pants, Little Top.

Big Pants, Big Top.

Little Pants, Little Top.

We went for a ride
the other day.

And something within me
woke up.

Maybe it was the wind in my face,
the hot sun beaming down on me,
or my hair cascading across my back.

Or perhaps the sound of the cicadas
singing in the trees.

I have a tattoo of a cicada on my neck,
and nursed a dying one back to flight the other day.

It was the way we took one turn
and all the sounds of the city
were cut off.

There was silence,
and there was peace.

It was the way my heart fluttered
when we stumbled upon an old park.

I asked her to ride the see-saw.
I hadn't been on a see-saw since I was 11.

We only went up and down a few times
before deciding not to test our luck
any further.

We picked up lunch at a supermarket
and ate it in the grass.

I had to swat away ants,
and those tiny red spiders
that look like laser pointers.

I decided to start romanticizing my own life a few days ago.

It's going well.