I was born to be good: a poem

I was born to be good and I loved it, and I loved the way you loved me, and I loved the way I loved you. It was good to be born, when the world was just born too and the light was the first light and the dark was the first dark. It was... Continue Reading →

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Cishet Boy: a poem

If you don’t tell me what women are like, I won’t tell you about men. It isn’t that you’re good “even though you’re male,” and I don’t date you “even though you’re straight.” I date you because you’re just plain good. Braver than me, kinder than them. Can’t we hold hands - can’t I say... Continue Reading →

nightwish was my jam: a poem

Thumping base and opera, the talk of nomadic mystics on fire content to be shut out. Those fingers of timbre and rhythm reached through my chest and spread into my lungs. They planted seeds that grew into trees and filled me up. Included in the excluded, in the crazies and dreamers with passion eating them... Continue Reading →

Bloodletting: a poem

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, sinned and sinned. And tomorrow, I’ll sin again and again and again. Ivory fangs and fire. Kiss and burn, Forever and Ever, Amen. The body and the blood, that sweet, euphoric blood. I could stop if I was brave enough but I’m not. What am I inside, after all,... Continue Reading →

Nunya: A Poem

I’ve always thought my private thoughts are nunya business. They suck emotional energy to unpack so why should I unpack for just anyone? Please don’t shame me for not being open. How am I doing? I’m spring-loaded, not sure what I want but ready to betray myself to get it. What have I been up... Continue Reading →

Leaky Old Plumbing

Today, I felt myself get up for the first time. Mouse gray light through my thin curtains. Warm bed, foreign but homey. Work clothes over my desk chair, waiting. Heater on, softly clicking. Chickadees pecking. Early, hungry. Nothing on my nightstand but books and bandaids. My eyes were crusty, but not from tears. My heart... Continue Reading →

I’m Bad With Death: A Poem

i’m bad with death because it doesn’t scare me. the source is my deepest love. naked understanding with the scent of home. when i meet them finally, fully i’ll weep for joy. but humans don’t want that. when faced with death, we want comfort that isn’t too comfortable. we want it’ll-be-okay’s that come with tears.... Continue Reading →

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