Cover this body with layers upon layers,
Each one hiding the secrets I don't want
To tell. They yell my ***, Scream it out
Shout it and others follow suit.
Four letter words may make violence but
S-H-E causes earthquakes inside me.
My curves curse me to wear my **
Chromosomes like neon paint
Warning sign: This person was born
Female. Born into an imaginary category,
Forced to conform. My mind
Is at war with the mirror eyes staring back
Those little details sticking out
Highlight them, cutandpaste to another
Body.
Maybe this bandage will keep me safe from
The gender police maybe people will be
Confused and not ask Maybe they will ask
For once and not assume.
Maybe I'll lose enough oxygen that it won't
Matter.
Matter is all I am, atoms twisted together in
Disarray and how can you call that Anything but what it is.
I defy this binary, refuse to walk the
PinkorBlue tightrope.
Let me fall and land in purple.
Let me live in the inbetween.

skew the weight
the empty chalice
the worthless promise of something

Am I just a wheel?
Consuming meals?
A speck in blue sea?
Bound by what I see?
Life amongst trees?
Breathing means free?

Am I my beliefs?
The truth I seek?
Flag of a country?
Defined by currency?
A liability?
Part of society?

Am I what you see?
The way you judge me?
The values you pick?
First impressions stick?
Norm defined by you?
Do I dare to be rude?

No...

I am who I choose.
I fill my own shoes.
I win when I lose.
I create my own views.
I see black beyond blue.
I pick me over you.

Who are we?
I am me.
Who are we?
Depends on you.

Remember that no matter how good you are
and no matter how hard you plan,
you will fail.

Evil doesn't win kid; never has,
never will. You might plan that heist
to the last gunman but the day of,

mark my words, something will go wrong.
The hero will show up, and you
will be lucky to escape with all of your limbs.

It's a suicide mission, villainy.

So why? Why work for chaos and destruction?
Why choose death?
Why fight the system, when every effort is doomed?

Because the system has ignored me.
I am the oppressed, the broken,
the trodden on and nameless.

They hurt me,
took advantage of me,
and then called ME "monster."

How can I support something that never supported me?

I'm not trying to excuse my actions.
I am a monster, but God help me;

I will be a monster on my own terms.

He dangled there,
Hovering between going on and going back.
Wrapping his hand around the bar,
Biting his lip and not looking down.
It’s October, but the sun is content.
He swings, swaying, kicking,
He’s floating.
Makes it to the end.
He knows he’s safe.

There’s an old lady
with curled fingernails
and proud wrinkles on her face.
She has worn a vinyl record
and a bird’s nest
atop of her head, for all of her good life.
The nest brings the music of the birds
the vinyl gives her shade from the sun.
She’s never thrown that vinyl on the record player
She doesn’t need to,
And that’s not what it’s for.
And as the birds sing
Dust comes off  
of the dancing shoes
she wore
when she fell in love with it all.

my heads up in space
but
please give me grace
im
working at a slower pace
and
im not in a very good place.

you say you believe me but that’s a lie
you know,
sometimes i’d just rather die
you don’t
believe how i identify
you know
it doesn’t hurt to diversify.

We're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to your jeans, we're watching the stars and we're moving
We're going down the green boulevard and we're cruising
you speak Romanian, I speak you, we're going to far
and moving to the beat as one and the wind blows the hair
in my face and I got news for you, I can see you just clearly
as I could before, carefully, barely hanging on and catching movies

I can't keep away from your kiss, back and forth want to feel
the rest of you and all of you can't wait to catch you all alone
we're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to the hole in your heart, tell me how you feel and who you are
you speak barely, your rhythmic breaths tell me all I need to know
waste the day and spend all the time in your pockets, all alone
floating around your head and hanging midair in your palms like
a red balloon

There are ghosts hiding behind my skin,
they come out at night,
and remind me of my sin,

there are red and blue cities within my heart,
they pulse and blur with light,
and remind me I am empty inside.

The ice queen dances on ice so thin,
she calls me out at night,
and waits for the ice to give in.

Sometimes I remain on the shore,
other times I dive right in.

-Dm 2017