Something more than my mind

occupies

Inside, a guide defines a path no longer

stagnant

A possibility magnet.

New strength fed from the depths of my speech,

Anchored and barren in my belly, glowing;

Constructed by thought alone:

Light shines heavy on the peaks of parchment paper crevasses,

Shedding dust and dull relief, binding lustrous, looping ink.

Mountains made of pulp and leaves,

Rivers hardly seen...

Topographic lines and dashes,

Speckled rings, flowering.

This is where it never ends--

This paper, I made for You.

Of anything I can say,

If only once and always:

Inscribed promise

To stay Yours,

To nurture and to teach

Eternal calligraphy...

Absolute and true

Reflection of Your youth and beauty,

Twirling under the moon and relished

Folded sweetly,

Sealed, enveloped.

Tucked away

Until the day

You're reading it to Yourself.

@justaperson

You realize these feelings are real.

And that terrifies you.

After all, you're destined to be normal. Like everyone else. Normal.

It keeps you up at night. Finally, you can't take it anymore. You have to get it out of your system. You have to tell someone. You don't want to, but you don't know how else you'll get to sleep or do anything else ever again. Your mom is the only one in the house.

You break down, crying, and she hugs you (by default). And while she doesn't love it, you feel lucky that she's accepted you.

Three years later, and those feelings are still there.

Mom thought it was a phase. It wasn't.

Finally, you get the nerve up to join your school's GSA. You basically just came out to the whole school. It was scary, but now you feel free. A weight has been lifted off your chest. And it feels amazing.

You nervously tell your mom. She's not happy.

Hot shots become commonplace, and it upsets you every time.

"You're becoming gayer every day!"

"You want to hang out with gay people but you don't want to learn about God!"

Finally, she breaks down and tells you she's torn between staying true to her morals and supporting you. She tells you her side, and you understand. You don't agree, but you understand. Although you drop GSA, you're not dropping your feelings, and she understands that.

And sometimes, understanding is all you need to make peace.

Do I need it?

No; only in winter; when it is very hot; but that is all... also when it rains, when I rain: the comfort: a hat: calms the waves.

But do I need that?

I don't need.

I follow you around; films, bars, bed, back again. You clutch my hat, to your breast, gentle, tender. You lend it; weekends, evenings, an afternoon in Autumn, no matter how I try, winds up back at your place. Under the sink, within the laundry, under your pillow.

Beneath the house.

The flutter when you are far, doing god knows with my hat. It calls me; I cannot reach for it. You aren't close.

Wearing my hat, tell your friends of the tingling feeling it leaves in your ears. How it reassures. You laugh; it rolls along the curb, you'll chase.

Protect. Must keep.

Not by instruction; compulsion.

My hat, your hat.

Nails on a blackboard.

Makes you feel like all your skin in crawling but has no where to go.

Your hair standing on end and your heart beating out of your body.

Makes you feel like you will burst if someone doesn't stop that scritching noise.

You want anything, anything at all to pull you, distract you but the noise goes on.

Echoing through to your bones and making you shudder.

Love does that but in a good way....

Love is like driving to Florida

It's exciting in the begining.

Boring in the middle

Retired and old at the end.

Why can't I submit

an entry

Even though

I click

the funny little

button on the screen

a

million

trillion

quadrillion

whatever comes after that

times?

Sabotage!

Jealousy!

Hijinx!

Obviously someone is

T E R R I F I E D

Of my poetic

Gen-

ius

To arms!

And other

Lines

Possibly borrowed

from

Shakespeare

(but not

confirmed)

Dear Brother,

In this lofty, uncanny world that you currently dwell in, the future, the past and present is all that may stand alongside you while forced to step forward. With each of these daring strides, a consequence becomes plausible, eagerly lurking with ill intentions in the shadows of life. Though your actions and words may await their superiority during these harsh times, and clear all that was once burdening. To have this is a blessing. I ask of you to take advantage of this. All that you say, all that you do has both an outcome and begins a new path you must travel, although foggy and likely unclear. Step forward through the murky depths, struggle through the darkness, accept the little moments that are joyous and carry on through the days.

If I am not there to say my rambling speeches personally, nor be there to give reassurance when you are stuck in any situation, please either talk to me over phone or simply try to understand it, perhaps with even a little help from my past lectures. Just keep yourself out of trouble, don’t go emo, don’t hold back your emotions and I’ll be more than likely happy.

On an unrelated note, I must say that I am extremely glad I got to spend a year with you as your sister, even if the events that occurred weren’t so grand. The emotions felt and the experiences I had were all so different and confusing, yet beautiful in a way that if one were to take a step back, a masterpiece of life would have been mended of our hardships and happiness. It was indeed, a very wonderful year.

But as time runs short and the fade of the days ahead of us are slipping away ever so gradually, the burning words I’ve been wanting to say for so long are finally to be said.

‘Thank you for everything, dear brother. You have not a clue to what you have shown me in this world, both magnificent and horrid. Worry, sorrow, happiness, relief… Such emotions were so unknown to me before, I almost forgot how it felt. You practically put me together as a human without acknowledgement of doing so. Thank you.’

With this, I must be off. You as well, in your journey through the unforeseeable future. Good luck to you, and to that of which is by your side from this moment onward.

Farewell, my dear brother, shall everything happy and joyous be with you.

~From, your sister.

(An actual note to whom I sent to my first love recognizing me as 'sister' and I, to him, 'brother'. I had originally wanted to express my true feelings through confessing in this letter, though I felt as if it was best as it was. -Kasora)

@justaperson

That autumn taught me to gather

the godforsaken heterosexuality

out of myself

pour it right down the drain

flip the switch

watch the metal teeth

crunch bits of me up

and choke them down

That autumn taught me to scrub

my skin

clean

pink and new

squeeze the words and water

out of my hair

and wrap myself up in the cloth

of self love

That autumn taught me to let

those golden words out

drip them off of my tongue

slow and sweet

and hang them out to dry

I'm gay

I didn’t like it either once. I still don’t like all of it, so, I get it.

You think it’s too vague or flowery, or something. You‘d rather things just be said plain. I get it.

My dog, Lola, had her first seizure when my husband and I were away for the weekend trying to find our way back to each other.

Our daughter dialed us from the depths of the depression she was hiding under her bed.

Nervous raindrops thumped the windshield as we sped home, my hand on my husband’s thigh.

Lola zoomed to meet us at the door, wiggling.

We all laughed, and held each other, and lost track of which tears were for what. Then we ordered pizza.

Poetry can be like that too.

@CreativeChaos