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Oscar C May 2018
I'm sorry you never got to be a mother,
kids running around you being a bother.
I’m sorry you never got to grow up and get married,
to a man who would cherish you till you were buried.
I’m sorry you lost all your friends,
Maybe someday they will make amends.
I’m sorry you lived hating your body,
mind going crazy, and eyes red and ******.
I’m sorry for all the things you could have been,
cut short by me at just thirteen.

But I’m not sorry for living,
I had to get free screaming and kicking.
I’m not sorry for letting your soul go,
like a little kid with his dead goldfish in the toilet flow.
I’m not sorry for ripping the facade of you off,
I’m glad our personalities aren’t too far-off.
I’m not sorry for being true to myself,
to that miserable girl, a sweet farewell.
Though no one knows you truly died,
the grief of you lies within me classified.
589 · May 2018
Silence
Oscar C May 2018
I befriended silence young,
hoping it would dissolve my sin,
like sugar on tongue.

Me and silence became the best of friends,
instead of friends I had silence to count on.
It was more reliable than people that depends.

I bit my tongue at every interaction,
kept my mouth closed,
because sometimes there was less of a reaction.

Silence spoke better for me,
unlike my peers I did not unleash my secrets,
keeping them locked away in my own personal sea.

But when people mistook my silence for submission,
Was when I started fighting with the quietness,
Silence no longer fit my position.
419 · May 2018
April Mire
Oscar C May 2018
On the sweet April mire
our syncopated hearts beats,
is all I wish and desire.
Hand in hand,
the breeze blowing a quiet peace,
all going as planned.
Nothing sweeter than your lips on mine,
an aftertaste lingers in graceful release,
lying just beneath the branchline.
A picnic set about just for two,
cheeses and meats set out piece by piece,
right along the early morning dew.
Your presence is like an electric fire,
nothing more sudden then such a caprice,
on the sweet April mire.
408 · May 2018
My Free
Oscar C May 2018
Beyond these walls wounded around me, I am free
The walls no longer encase my sickening body
I am able to smell the ever growing flowers,
Accompanied by the vervain bush, and freshly cut grass.
The sweetness lingers undermy nose,
But not long does it come back to the sterile hospital.
It is where I am safe, the hospital,
But I’ll never be if I stay, that is free.
Every hour the nurses come a check my mouth, throat, and nose
Making sure no more disease has entered my body
Maybe mother will let me touch again the grass,
She says I may be allergic to the flowers.
Last time I got very sick being around the flowers,
Something about the pollen, sent me right back to the hospital.
Somedays I sit on the harsh bed, but I rather lie in the grass,
O’ Doctors please just let me be free.
I know there’s something wrong with my body,
Something, I presume, with my nose.
There’s more, but mainly I can’t smell, at least with my nose.
I smell everything, even the flowers,
To smell I use my eyes, hands, ears, words; my body.
I always try furtively to escape the hospital,
But the guards, nurses, and doctors steal my free.
My free is the glowering sun on my body, and my skin on the grass.
I lie in the grass,
The pollen sinks in my nose,
While they countermand my free.
My gentle hands wisping across my mother’s favorite flowers.
As so, she comes out and rushing me back into the hospital,
In her arms, in my sound body.
My doctors examine my body,
Picking off my shirt, the specks of grass.
They let me leave, for good, the hospital.
I can now smell the wonders on the world, with my nose,
My favorite smell is the daisies, my mother’s favorite flowers.
They gave me back my free.
A fixed nose,
The smell of even grass, and sprouting flowers,
I am finally free.
393 · May 2018
A Broken House
Oscar C May 2018
A Broken House

My house is broken, the windows cracked,
Don’t you see it falling apart right now?
I never said it was gonna be intact

The floorboards screaming, the books are stacked.
I won’t let my house fall apart, anyhow.
My house is broken, windows cracked.

The house is dying, having been ransacked.
It hardly comes back together, somehow.
I never said it was gonna be intact.

I jettison the bed in special act,
The walls cave in on me, just wow-o-wow.
My house is broken, windows cracked.

I allege my house has been attacked,
Still my house, hatred I will not allow.
My house is broken, windows cracked.
I never said it was gonna be intact.
388 · May 2018
My Queer
Oscar C May 2018
Congratulations! It’s a girl.
The third girl of three,
To be baptized, to sit at pew surrounded by the congregation,
Who would deem my existence as unworthy.
My entire life a sin, even though my first prayer was to rid this sin of me.
But God did not answer me.
Or I was just too foolish to not listen to him.
My mother promised me something,
When I grow up I can be anything I want.
I decided to be a boy.
Naturally I did not come out of the closet,
The kids in school pulled me out.
Calling by words I did not recognize, “****, ******, Lesbian”
But I was more boy than girl, more Men’s Magazine than Maybelline.
I forcefully swallowed the phrases along with the slurs.
Uncles at reunions eyeing my scraped up knees,
Supposed to be covered by a flowery dress.
A short ponytail in the place of golden locks.
“I didn’t know I had a nephew.”
Aunts picking a my blushing cheeks,
And my female cousins begging to paint my face.
But my whole body’s already painted on.
My genetic makeup contributing the question of my anatomy.
My mother feared for my safety,
Afraid my name would become another hashtag within a second.
Another name whispered in hushed conversations.
Another ******* name of transgender homicide.
I am walking grave with a name painted on to which I do not recognize.
My life dependent on the mercy of hateful strangers,
The minute I walk out the door,
I become a feast for the eyes of strangers.
Confused at my gender expression,
They feast on my queer with hateful slurs.
Maybe someday God will answer my prayers.
341 · May 2018
Ode To Her
Oscar C May 2018
She was a demon in gruesome disguise,
for I was blind and could not tell.
I allowed her to whisper evil lies
in my mind, happiness farewell.


But it was my mistake to believe them.
To her, who I was was trickery;
my body was something of deception.
Hell was where I was, sunk to misery.

But then she came along, flying towards me
A nimble angel in the sky.
She saved me, brought me to where I belong
High gods, angels, and spirits I came by.

She split open my heart with graceful hands,
she smiled at the broke remains.
A heart abused from fatuous demands
she reached inside and worked her art.


And emotion scarce to me came alive.
She created for me a stew,
of joyful memories, and a sweet thrive.
Seeing the heart she pushed through.

Her tender smile, teeth shooting garish rays.
My heart is no longer dark blue.
Then she sewed me up with one little phrase,
I love you.
326 · May 2018
Of Something Sylvan
Oscar C May 2018
Sleepily begotten of the forest,
A woman who lives among the ferns,
Plants are to you dearest.

Of silently dripping water droplets,
Off the honeydew suckle,
A sylvan goddess, I promise.

The company of people almost seems foreign,
When the billowing flowers seem to speak,
O how the earth has forgotten.

Where the forest you belong,
Return to your wooded home,
Too soon you are gone.
302 · May 2018
Seemingly
Oscar C May 2018
It seems as though,
My true friends are leaving,
And I’m simply stuck in their shadow.

But you my dear friend,
One of which I’m believing,
Our friendship will never come to an end.

At the high school cafeteria lunchroom,
We shared laughter and thorough teasing.
Is where I truly had time to bloom.

Seemingly is no long just another word,
Just a reminder of your comedic being,
You’ve yet to become matured.

I hope that I’ve ruined bananas for you,
This is for now the end unceasing,
But yet, my friend, I thank you.
257 · May 2018
Drowning
Oscar C May 2018
Here you will find me,
Drowning in the tears,
I cried over you.
But now you are here,
******* me blue,
This time,
I just can’t breathe.
210 · May 2018
For Her
Oscar C May 2018
If you'd ask
I'd give you my heart
And with that
My whole life too.

— The End —