You're willing to die for a country
That will exclude you from being able to serve.
You're willing to kill for a country
That still thinks a Bible is a valid argument.
You're willing to contribute to a conflict
That isn't as big a threat to your life
As the people you've vowed to protect the liberty of.
And you do it again and again
With a fraction of the respect patriots demand veterans are entitled to.
Because you've decided to put the needs of the complacent
Above your own human rights.
And you'll get no thanks from them,
Because they can't sleep easily at night
Unless they can rip off your clothing and see what's in your pants.
And if it doesn't add up to their image?
You can sacrifice your life for theirs and they'll still call you a freak.

this one is for all the women
for all the girls who were
brought down by the people
who were supposed to
believe in them

stand up and be proud,
shine on
while i'm singing

you're one in a million, truly
when you get beat down
i'll pick you up again

whether black or brown
straight or lesbian
whether white or old
young or muslim
transgender or non-binary
bisexual and also you, too
i'll hold your heart to the fire
make you warm, my friend

this is it
my one and only
deepest desire

to all the women
to all the women.

my heart flutters at
the way she speaks my name.
"lover", she hums,
and i watch speechless as woebegone
drips from her lips. she
tastes like moonlight
when she kisses me. fragile.
unknown. known.
when our bodies meet
i can't imagine living life any
differently than this;
magnetism draws me closer and
i am intoxicated and sobered and
and i let my fingers
trace symphonies over her skin
love songs and love letters
and the lust of
knowing that this is belonging.
we fold into each other
and it is inevitable. i want to
learn her, learn
every part of her, as if
it's what my soul was sent to do;
her heartbeat weaves a
gossamer of beauty and
she leaves it in the crease of my
neck. "lover".
lightworker. twinflame.
architect of this home, these
two arms that sing safety
into rose quartz bones.
this is harmony.
i release a held breath and
whisper back, "always".
this is my promise.

how can i be completely honest with someone
without scaring them,
without having them think i am still
in love with you?
i swear i'm over you.

i fucked up and said your name
while i was with him.
he probably thinks i'm still obsessed with you,
and he wouldn't be completely wrong.
your name and face run through my mind
at least five hundred times a day.
i just like to fantasize about what we could've had.
it was nice having hope i may have found the one.

driving around
and there's only one thing on my mind:
you.

they kept you at bay.
but once they left,
your face and name came flooding back.
drowning every word i ever said to them,
every emotion i expressed to them.
did i even mean any of that stuff?

fuck, i even told one of them i loved him.
and it was really hard saying that
because admitting that to someone is next to impossible for me to do.
now i'm questioning whether or not
i even truly cared about him.
did i say it because i actually felt it?
did i say it because he was almost my dream guy?
(God knows guys over six feet tall make me uncomfortable.)
or did i say it because i'm afraid to be alone
and i didn't want him to go
and i needed him to stay so i can forget you?

they all told me the same bullshit
and i believed it all.
i just wanted to hear it from you.

and everyone tells me that i should be over you
by now.
and that everyone that has come after you is better.
they just don't understand that when your own psyche
convinces you that you two are meant to be,
it's impossible to stop thinking of them.

You're not like the other girls I've loved
Your laugh is like the embodiment of summer
Warm weather and flowers blooming
Two girls with sun kissed skin and strawberry lips, that's us
Please don't ever go away my love
I don't think I could stand it if you did

I don't write a lot of poetry about me being queer.
Not because I don't like it.
I love that about me.
It's because I'm lucky.
I'm so  lucky that I grew up with parents who hugged me when I came out.
So lucky, that my friends reacted with a "hey, cool".
So lucky that all of this let me come to terms with myself.
I never hated myself because of who I am...I'm so so fucking lucky.
But there's so many out there who didn't have this.
Who's parents kicked them out or beat them.
Who's friends left them alone.
Who hate themselves for who they are, for the wonderful things that they are...
For me it was easy, for you it might not be
For them it can be so hard.

Okay kid here's the deal, you'll come into this world and everyone will tell you how to feel.

Fast forward, fifth grade, you're in the bathroom stall. The first time you knew the word gay, it was written as a slur on a dirty cement wall.

When your brother came out it shouldn't been a surprise, but even
you became accustomed to the fear behind his eyes.

Using art as an outlet, you set your electricity free, bleeding words onto paper, grasping for being who you wanted to be.

Drunk on idealism and Tumblr walls, discovering yourself, refusing to fall.

Into the same routine and monotony like the rest, you took your pain to the stage, ripped your heart open and confessed.

Screaming I AM WHO I AM, with your arms open wide, who knew one day you'd finally refuse to hide?

I am
Mostly dependent
On independent people
Especially when they’re women—
Especially when they’re you.

You, with your
High-pitched laugh and your
Dark hair up and your
Pride loud but your
Voice louder and
Heart
Closed.

Yes,
I am dependent
And most days I repent it
To have my body and
Soul and
Heart and
Head in
You.

And you
have your head and—
Your head.
And that’s, you say,
What you like in me.
Yes,
That’s the takeaway:
My academic
Skills
Not the late nights spent
Holding you or the
Times I went
To comfort you
Or the energy used
To convince you
it’s true:
You are
Enough.

Enough, I said
On the floor
I told myself
I couldn’t do this
Anymore,
I—

Am a person
Not a therapist
Per se
A laborer
Always
A construction worker
for you
And me
And us but
Even I can’t fix a
One-way street,
Not me.

Although sometimes I’d like to—
Especially when you look at me the way you do and
Lift my skirt and break the rules
And scream louder than
Anyone else,
You.

Narcissist,
You ghost-like figure
Presence-less, you sometimes-mess
And yet I insist to
Chase you
but you’re the one who will haunt me
through and through,
You and your fucked-up ways
To show
Love
After all,
There is not space for me
in ‘I.’

But then I remember
The way you defy
Expectations—including mine
and every time
You deny
that you are afraid
For your life
But let me tell you
So am I
Afraid for my heart when we’re apart
But lately also
When we are together.

See, I knew this wasn’t forever
But I thought the end was yet to come,
Not yesterday.
Or I guess maybe it was
Right at the start—
The first time you kissed me
And the first time I missed you
When you didn’t miss me,
You.

And now you have me here
In this space
This in-between,
And I,
A basket case—
Wishing that
I wasn’t here
That
I wasn’t queer
That maybe if I found a man
I could spare myself this
Late-night pain and
Post-drink drain
So
I will find a husband and
A house to stay in with
a white-picket fence and
Pretend
that I am numb so that
I won’t feel happiness
but I won’t feel loss
And
I won’t feel like this
Ever again.

So here I am and
Although it’s different this time around
I am still bound
by my roots
And my wounds and my soul.
This may make me dependent but at least
When I said I loved you I meant it—
Yes, I am in love with you,
But
From the start, everyone knew
And they told me to
run
Away
And run I did
Right toward you
You, my gone-too-soon,
Almost-truce
Hope-in-doom,
Nightmare,
You,
And I am
A fool.