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oliver o Jun 2018
they say the grass is
greener on the other side.
but here i am, sat

behind the white fence,
greener with envy than the
grass will ever be.
oliver o Jun 2018
the weather matches my heart today
i am sick, i am cold
i want to hide away in my skin
deeper than i already do

you got me at the worst time
how did you not feel it?
how our hands fit perfectly
was it only my heart that set on fire when our bodies pressed together?
i thought you felt it
i thought it took friction to make sparks

my eyes have this sting that makes me see your face on every body on spring garden road
atleast the sky is crying for me
or else no one else would
oliver o Jun 2018
we planted seeds in each other
that we figured were gonna grow
big and strong one day
but when they grew into something nasty
we couldn’t cut them down
oliver o Jun 2018
my stomach
is nothing but
cheap coffee
my internet history
is nothing but
queer love poems
and my mind
is nothing but
you and i
and you and i
and you and i
i want
a fender stratocaster
with a leather strap
i want a loft apartment
with a beautiful view
but most of all
i want you
back here with me
holding you and
holding you and
holding you
when your hand brushed mine
for the first time
that day in november
my heart fluttered
i wondered
what would my daddy say
if he knew i felt this way
about you
about us
now here i am
i don't know how it started
or why it ended
all i know is
you're the only one i miss
Yasha Harkness Dec 2015
Talk to me about space
About the incredible cosmos
About the way we were all
Made of stardust, talk to me
About the way your hair bleeds colour
When you bathe, about your nightmares
After an evening with your parents, talk to me
About the girls you've kissed and the girls you've wanted to kiss,
Tell me about all the things that bind your soul
To this dusty rock we call home,
For that is where your truth lies.
Tell me what you feel about couples having PDA
On the subway, if you feel jealous or indifferent, talk to me
About the liminal spaces, the coffee shops, cross roads, train stations
Where we have a 1 in a billion chance of meeting our soulmates,
Tell me about the pain you felt when your brother died,
The nights you couldn't sleep because of all the tears
That would never fall, because your heart had gone numb.
Talk to me about you. No, not you, You.
The girl with the cosmos in her body. The you I fell in love with, after all we were made of adjacent stardust.
Talk to me.
communication communication communication :)
Yasha Harkness Dec 2015
We and (I)
She and They
Him and Us
We afloat
Paper boats
In October storms
Who condemned us to die?
There's a hole in the boat, Lover
Perhaps we were simply
Never meant to survive
Your velveteen thorns
Scraped their hickeys
Over my paper skin
-Sinking our boat-
While the storm of your tears
Raged on from the shore.
queer like rain
Yasha Harkness Dec 2015
Go back to bed.
Why would you want
To leave the warm embrace
Of silken sheets and silkier thighs?
Kiss-swollen lips and a rats nest of perfect hair,
Those shining silver eyes blinking gummily that beckon you with love glimmering in their depths?
Cancel your plans and make no more.
Bring her breakfast in bed!
And joining her, let the day slip away in contented caresses and laughing kisses
For though this month may be awash with work and stress and troubles
In the bed with her there is nothing but peace, love and harmony...

And just a dash of morning ***. ;)
an ongoing dream
Yasha Harkness Dec 2015
At age six you bought me a pretty lady doll
I remember your anger
The day I married her to another lady doll.

At age sixteen you bought me a beautiful dress
I remember your anger
When I asked for a suit instead.

At age twenty six you b(r)ought me a husband
I remember the day so clearly even now
**It was the day I eloped with my girlfriend.
how little you know me
Yasha Harkness Jun 2015
My heart is a garden.
In it grow three trees, a few saplings, and

many  many  roses.

which one were you when you said yes
my love
a discovery of pansexuality
Yasha Harkness Apr 2015
This is not a poem.
I am not a lullaby
Nor a childhood monster
I am untaught


You can never bring me down.
Though you try
I overcome it all
The hate
The violence
Mindsets of a bygone era

If I should fall
Another will take my place

We exist in the hidden places
You do not see us.
Yet we are rising
And we will be beyond restraint
by the time you finally deign to see us
As anything but your inferiors
This is not a poem.
This is a war cry.
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