Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Juliana Jan 5
There are days in which it seems as if the whole world is falling down.
These are the days in which the ceiling crumples at my feet.
The days where everything I’ve ever known,
my very sense of being
is destroyed.

Who am I?
I thought I knew.
I have lived over seven-thousand days traveling on this earth.
Seven-thousand days as myself.
How didn’t I know?

My entire life,
one could say I was boy crazy.
Has that changed?
I have never been one to change childhood crushes every other week.
If I had a crush, it either lasted years,
or it never existed at all.

Just a wanting.
A wanting to feel.
A wanting to love.

But I can love.
I love my friends, my family.
I love the stories I read,
the characters I create,
the fabric of our reality.
I love being alive.
But I don’t love like that.
And I want to.

Now, I watch as the dust starts to settle.
I kick the white powder at my feet,
starting to regain my breath.

Focus, breathe.
You’re okay. I’m okay.
This is me. I am real.
This is me. I am real.

In the corner, by the rubble,
a slip of cardstock lies innocently.
This is what my life has succumbed to.
A piece of paper with three humps and a tail.

I am okay.
I will learn to love myself.
I will learn to be proud.

Maybe one day this card will slip away,
the rubble will disappear,
and I will wonder what the fuss was all about.

But not today.
Today I will hold this card close.
I will slip a metal band around my fingertip.
I will do what I do best
and learn, and love, and feel.
Because that’s all we can ever do.
We can grow.
I want to grow.
I am greysexual. This is me.
Ace of Cups
Material business

Your best prestations result in welfare
The money rolls into your world
You finally got what you wanted
Money flowing, not being hurled

Stay aware of your spendings
The world isn't all yours
Gold dissapears from the mines
You're jealous, suddenly it's ours
A poem every day
Ace of Wands
An eruption of energy

New energy floods your body
An adventure's on it's way
You must trust the melody
Let the energy stay

The energy floods out sometimes
You refuse to accept the faith
Accept your plans aren't working
Then you'll see your spirit's wraith
A poem every day
Ace of Swords
The sword of truth

The fog in your head's clearing
Ideas appear, one after the other
It's a time of new changes
Let the world not be a bother

You always speak the truth,
Yet the truth can be painful
You musn't let it hurt you
New ideas be frightful
A poem every day
Ace of Pentacles
Your head is overflowing

The world is filled with love
With hapiness and new chances
With wine and food
So many beautiful dances

You refuse to listen
You think you're so pretty
Too unstable to hear
It's a shame, it's a pity
A poem every day
maria Dec 2020
Tell me, where has my intimacy gone?
Where does it translate? Why does it twist my tongue? Where is the scripture for it?

It’s in my bones but I can’t strip it out and showcase it. Is that protection? Do my muscle and tissue keep it confined within me?

Then maybe it hasn’t gone anywhere. Maybe it can’t become a carbon copy for another because my print is so sacred.

But why can’t my shoulders fit along the seem? Why can’t the gears grinding methodically inside my head be the parts of the mass production?

I was hand-carved and strung and wired then left to wind and tick without instruction. So, then. Tell me, how do I chime?

To rephrase more accurately: Tell me, where can I let my intimacy go?
goodnight to aspecs, queer folks, ppl who know how to take a carbon copy, those who feel the ground quake beneath them at the sheer power in my attempt at ok grammar
basil Jun 2020

even if your name
doesn't match the one on your drivers licence
or birth certificate:
be proud

even if your pronouns
aren't the ones they use at
family gatherings or birthday parties:
be proud

even if the one you love
isn't the one you're with:
be proud

even if who you are
isn't who you want to be
right now:
be proud

even if people
don't understand
and still use slurs:
be proud

even if you have to fight
to stay visible:
be proud

even if you're not okay:
be proud
happy pride. especially to those who don't have anyone to celebrate with. i'll celebrate with you. even if you don't think you have anything to be proud of, the people that stood at the stonewall riots think that you do. i think that you do. countless members of this community stand with you, and know that you should stand with PRIDE.

so be proud.

annh Jun 2020
play the
joker, *****
the knave, covet
the queen, and tuck
the ace of spades under my
pillow on a ringed moon night,
but I am forever shuffling the same
deck of cards. Marked cards, imprinted
with loss and patterned with misfortune. Co
urt cards dressed in ill-fitting suits, each face as
familiar as my own. Four seasons, four pips; twelve
months, twelve crowns. One card for each week of the
year. Sequentially pred  ictable, and as underwhelming
as a rigged roulette wheel. U ntil, unable to distinguish
between the red and the    b    lack, the picture and the
plain, I fold. Void of      co     ntracts, and bleeding
widowe                            d blanks.
deal­ me in,
but deal me unpainted
and unmastered. Deal me clean.

‘If I can just have one last cut.
Do you have a plan for the new?‘
- Alice Notley, In the Pines
else Jan 2020
No more aces up my sleeve

I've ran out magic tricks to play with you

I'm tired.

So watch me disappear

No smoke and mirrors here
Next page