I have been left
            floating
     my arms out
in mid-action
as if to stop
what might have always
             inevitably come        
                   and I am dangling
above forest and brush
            above wild animals
          who look at me
in wonder
my goddess energy
in temporary shock
      my grief
billowing behind me
like an 18th century gown
in a black cloud of mourning
it threatens to
drown me completely
but my secret weapon
      is to let it ride its course
              to feel it in all intensity
For I know
this will pass
I will be ok
and so I let it go
untethered
like a river's rushing current
like a pocket of turbulence
like a storm that whips up,
engulfing quiet
in sudden froth
my hair flows
      like a manga warrioress,
about to strike
her revenge upon the Earth
rage in arrows that pummel
your confused, bruised heart
where truth hides
within layers
upon layers of
     veiled
night air

Look at me
I've gone far
All the way
to the bottom
I cannot fathom
going much farther
down, down down

Look at me
I took the pill
I got free
Or so called
I keep headin south
make momma proud

Look at me
I am a soldier
A soldier of life
The war is here
Got to win the battles
But mostly the war

Look at me
Everyone wants money
so you owe
And you're never complete
Always in chains
From your head to your feet

Look at me
I'm still looking
For things I need
on all levels
My heart bleeds
And it swells

Look at me
I need freedom
I need a world
That doesn't judge
I need a realm
that totally loves

She's lounging on the futon playing Stardew Valley. We both get a kick out of it. Mainstream gaming can **** a *****. Exceptions occur, of course. I look into the bathroom mirror through a splatter of mouthwash and toothpaste and groom my hair, my face like I think highly of myself. I don't. I shave and I pluck, admire the edges, pretend I'm of feminine energy, pretend according to the faces and voices that matter. We have to look out for ourselves somehow, but in whole what the world can see of us makes them think we're outsiders trying to climb into an exclusive box. I want to find myself beautiful, and I know you must be happy with yourself, but there's no pleasure in false positives. Where is the touch of appreciation? To struggle visually means that windows are better caked. Not cis, nor have I ever been. In the end, I'm content enough choking in the wasteland.

My heart is molding guess I'll make a stew
with that nasty grotesque faux love laying around sloughing off from you,

My Spirit had desirable lust wanting you and faux *** the Love which now I see was your ingredients to place in your cauldron of something to use later on.

My Love was not false and never a fake but you decided to ****** my love and raise some ridiculous stakes! It is no wonder why you cause
so much pain with your own agenda in mind dripping of lies and deceit!

My heart has been molding, my bones in
pain because of you but as you get comfortable ;
Lay down with your eyes asleep a written note
Good bye with less than me saying a peep.

With azzwipe drawn all over your
windshield and with punctured
tires won't get you very far. So take a blunt hint!
admit your fake you weasel cause that's exactly what you are!! And now your hand can do the manipulation so take that disgusting falseness you sale as love for all I care our love has been killed.    

                                             *Genevieve S.

When all the water has left
the dry Earth will sing to Sky
Return, please, return!
Both the stone pulling
and the void pulling
like to kiss in the middle
of war. Scorched turns to damp
in the end, providing our
diligence and duty to life.
It's shameful the water goes
now when such destruction
hangs in the near distance.
Diligence may no more undo
the damage, for the time
has gone as well.

That feel when
re-burn fills bowl
Queen/King
out of gold
No clean smoke
No hairy rip
I scavenge
for oasis in glass
ash trays
Expect the soft
kiss and faint
*** sweat of old dreams
but the smoke
blows out and once
more the world shifts
For free

Felonious bologna spread
sweet meaning lips to air
through air to ear.
Good kids grew up framed
Bad kids grew up changed
Zip burnt bone butts
Sweep the back patio
Procure snap lights
Glow sticks in darkness
Vibration received
One hand on the other's trail
White-blue red-pink
Write names with innate
Shapes in muscle memory