Leave and see what the rest of the world has to offer you.
Move to a city that feels like another country, even if it’s in the same state.
Face the people who point out your differences with their eyes.
Discover living in a world where timing is everything, especially during rush hours.
Make an amount of money that seemed out of reach before.
Realize that said money isn’t even enough to pay an electricity bill.
Feel lonely in a room full of people because no one smiles at strangers.
Figure out that diversity doesn’t mean acceptance.
Experience suburban claustrophobia.
Dream about the beauty you grew up ignoring.
Go home and remember you were lucky.
(Here’s a poem that reflects my consistent internal dialogue!)
I can’t tell you what I feel like because
Even I don’t know what I feel like;
It’s more of a mess of colors like,
Blues and reds
With hints of green,
But only because your eyes are green,
And this is coming off kind of strong but
Did you know you say all the right things sometimes?
But all the wrong things the other times,
And although you don’t always listen,
When you do listen,
And that means more than you know,
Or I know
Or they know—
Look I don’t know how to end this
Or stupid run on sentence,
Just like I don’t know how to tell you
“I love you” or
that I’m lost when you’re absent.
Describe the way time felt without them. Explain the feeling of having lived in quicksand; the mud you swam in, the continual heaviness in your bones. What freed you?
From: Me, in the middle of the Pride Parade
June 10, 2017
It hurt me to know that
There was more love for you
Amongst thousands of strangers
Than in your own home.
I wanted to cry when I saw
Families proclaim their pride
For their sons and daughters,
Because it’s what you deserved.
I’m sorry I can’t change your family’s mind;
They don’t know what they’re missing.
I love how strong men cry
when they are no longer strong.
When their lives are on the line,
do you really think they care
about their beliefs?
About the hate they preached?
It was just a game anyhow,
they never really cared about
the People they promised they
Only the ways in which these
where their compassion should lie;
living where their heart should be.
At the end of the day,
we are nothing,
besides tools for their victories.
I know I’m still in love with you because I won’t stop thinking about the seeds of happiness you planted in the corners of my mouth. These seeds turned to flowers that kept my smile pinned to my ears.
Their stems whispered all the ways I was special to you when I wasn’t feeling so lovable.
Their blooms often smelled like you and it made me feel less lonely on the nights you were away.
Bees would often see me and say how lucky I was to have you.
The sun would shine brighter when I walked outside because you were around.
Even the rain made me smile because you said we always needed it.
I am not bitter you have moved on and my flowers are gone, because I will never stop growing.
A noise reverberates in the emptiness that exists
In the space where you end and I begin.
It’s a ringing with a pitch high enough that if you don’t
stop and listen hard enough, you would miss it.
Sometimes I hear this noise in the moments before your
Breath gets deeper and you fall asleep,
Sometimes I hear it when you stop kissing me just long
Enough to look at me and smile.
Tonight my ears are ringing with the sound of us,
And it’s like I’ve never heard music before.
I see what you mean at every turn, even the sun disappears
And it won’t tell me why. Somedays I wake up to grey skies
And curse the day before when I didn’t kiss it harder.
Are you scared?
I have never been more terrified. I feel as some people do about
But this is part of life.
I’m not ready.
I’ll help you.
Fear does not make grocery lists.
I’ll help you.
Anxiety is not a form of roadside assistance.
I’ll help you.
Depression doesn’t pay the bills.
Then what will help?
A new state of mind.
How can I explain my past to you?
Do I tiptoe around the details?
What about the fog that was my teenage years?
Do I tell you how I let him speak to me?
How he made me feel insignificant?
What about the way I felt after I lost myself?
Or the time I decided to die?
Would you understand?