revisions

new love
it's always
a little more than half a moon
whenever
i look at you
it's like
disturbing
you disrupt everything
that's meant anything
to me
the world is not round
love does not equal marriage
or babies
what is a baby
pageant shoes
and misery
and longing
and death
do us part
what is my part?
what are you playing
the saxaphone
would rape me
my ears
and my longing
i might do you
right
spend the rest of my life
with you
motherfucker
i'm at a loss
for logic
is nothing
just love
and lust
is a symbol
take this token
as mine
my own
truth.

the thing about space

I've been tackling space
fighting with silence
bleeding between worlds
lamp posts and cigarette butts
the woman upstairs is loud
and it doesn't sound good
he tells me I am safe here
but I'm scared

I worry often times my body -
becomes invisible
I play with words like my pronouns
don't matter
but they are intangible to my latest sexual partner
he retreats and corrects the way he's expected to treat me
so my body is seen in the ways he's respected

the pieces melt into blurry memories of
what's true
often times I get confused
how do I fit here
and then I remember
I do not fit easily into your visions for me
I do not scramble to fulfill your fantasy
I will not be humbled by your ignorance of me

I slip easily into word play
I shift quickly to avoid no boundary
but i will keep you here, way up here
and I won't hold you but remain
shapeless
in the comfort of my own
missing, ambiguous, non conforming
boundless yet bound, changing identity

lingers

i hate when you're not here
that i am here alone
and my comforters, covers
blankets and sheets
get entangled as i wrestle
with the thoughts in my mind
where is he?
when he's here,
where's my lover?
and how did i get here
and why do i know you
this way
deeper than thread, cover
over cover
upon layers of spread
out with the emotions
and getting it in
then seeing each other
at the best of our best
in the low of each game
but i know you
i think i believe
you see me
and you've taken me
out on a distant shore
when the rivers, as the currents
run quickly to retrieve
my heart soars and aches to be
within reach with you

speak glimmers of change

I've been thinking a lot about anger
about how angry I am
How I was maybe
born into this

I watch my mother sometimes
she is beautiful
in every light
but she is nervous
and does not always use her voice

My father speaks over me a lot
I am constantly defeated
by my own silence
With these two initiatives
I try to reconcile
talking in between
and not speaking at all

The past,
the future
of me
Is a constant battle
a struggle, towards acceptance
I am working
to be visible
And to approve of myself
As easily seen
As unnoticed
in shadows of the same light
of a different time

tonight

the moon is bleeding out
it is
you say
and i wonder,
when, how, why
won't you look at me
that way

with disbelief and wonder
and a stronger desire
to understand and achieve
some great love
and another power

refusal of the fittest

i refuse to write about you
poems that are telling of romance
of plans for the future
that tell one, like they tell me
"you are too far ahead, in your mind,
you are thinking, too far in advance,"
and this is true, my friend
he tells me and reminds me
you should go, go see him
he likes you, i think
i know he is right but i am scared shitless
to begin, again
if this poem is not about you
i can't lose right? i only win
so i won't write you in lines
or create stories about our future
how it could be, it is
because it is not a big deal,
it is just a thing
i like, a lot, right now.

the past remains

i wrote a lot of poems that year
i cried a lot
i think i was more in love with ideas
or words, the thoughts that kept you here
in silence, like ghosts
when the truth was, really
you are not here, you were never mine
one can never be owned by someone else
but still, i find myself sitting here, hoping
wishing that someone, anyone, will call me "mine"