I'd be a thief for your love
if you'd let me

I'd steal the stars and drug the moon
just so you could live under the night sky

I'd **** Wendy and trap Peter
just so you could fly

I'd lure the Will 'o Wisps
just so you could hear their whispers

I'd cast out Poseidon
just so you could sleep to crashing waves

I'd travel through time
just so you could rebel with Frida and dine with Diana

I'd sell my soul with a grin to Satan himself
just so you could dance to the devils fiddle


If you'd just let me
be worthy of everything that is


you

you bar me from the gates of heaven and deny me paradise
your smoking threat burns in my lungs
and my eyes close slowly
as i cough up the last secrets of a soul laid bare
and you decide hell is my home

well, the devil welcomes me
because i am one of her daughters
a girl of horrifying beauty and unrestrained love
risen from the ash of a hate you said would protect me

you were meant to love them
instead you sewed fear
so when we reached out a hand, they fell into our arms
and for the first time
they found a home that was safe

For me,
men are not romantic--
The way I love a woman is
so much less traumatic
than what straight girls
intend to endure--
Being lead on is common, I’m sure--
And she never fooled me,
She never used me,
Never did her silence spur anxiety--
I eagerly guided her fingers
inside of me- Where
Boys would lean above you, ***** in power, see- there
Hurt you as they *******, and always them to please--
Dear, your pleasure is mine and
you’re the cause of mine and
I know you’ll treat me different; Better
than what I thought could be fine.
I’ll make you finish and upon me
you’ll dine.
Women-love-women love is superior,
sublime.

i never understood the phrase
home is where the heart is
until i was shaking on the floor of
my hospital room and it was nothing
but walls
and even when i found the energy to
decorate with cliché little things
like fairy lights, posters, my
skeletal “art”
i felt the room swallow me whole
until i was nothing but a grain of sand
my new roommate was a wrinkly zucchini-girl
and i tried not to speak to her
but we heard each other cry in the night
and we never said a word
but i could feel her eyes on me
a girl down the hall
heard me talking about my addiction and
she told me she would pray for me
later that day she pushed me
into a wall and pressed her
lips against mine
then told me i was tempting her,
i was a sin
just waiting to happen
so i sat in the dark outside her room every
night before i went to sleep
and sometimes she would
come out
and hold my hands
and tell me she loved me

Taking her in is a wonderful thing
No longer does peace rhyme
with my suffering-
Today it’s rational fears;
A test, eating well-
Going off to college and
dying off to hell-
Now peace is my room in the morning light
It’s Baroque chords and high marks and
skirts tight-
It’s comfort, and people,
And especially her,
It’s her bold mouth and walking hand in hand
The same hands under her shirt-
And finally do I know what life’s meant to mean.
And finally do I realize peace does not rhyme with
suffering.

Now I know that “eventually”
will turn to “Now”
and the way we can be-
hand in hand through town, or playing footsie
under the table
Strong hands, soft lips,
feminine and able-
Smiling with teeth and teasing
incessantly-
Hands on waists and watching her, existing,
being her whole self
And so lovely.