Beneath Dirt

I got nostalgic the other day,
Wished we were going to Jah Healing, Stater’s, and back to the cabin,
But it was never that great in real life –
We were too depressed, too out of love, too unimpressed with each other –
The dogs deserved better than that,
And I hope they have it;
As for me, I’m listening to All Time Low
But I’m high, oh, and sober 293 days, whaddaya know
Just a marginalized trans bitch everyone calls “Sir” 🙆🏻‍♀️
Not a friend in the world, save Lenise,
And that’s my sense of humor
Because it’s not even wholly true
But it’s hard to joke when nobody texts you,
When your family disavows you,

And you’re less than dead to her,
Beneath dirt

at a time

the hurt grows heavier with time;
all of this – without the friend(ssss) and family, to whom Lawrence is no longer alive –
but this is just a sidebar, an aside:
for I have my inner-child to provide for – to harbor – and we’re hardlly there, libidinal unclear,
shellshocked, in repair, collide;
what a year
my thousand-yard gaze fills me with numb awe, stay thraxxed, mind slack,
eyes wide shut, vagal toned AF, resting heart rate on Jack Dorsey, bitch my microbiome is better than royalty,
and I drink hella tea
no detox, I stay relaxed
in the best health of my mthafvkin life
alone w myself, my california-sober stoner yogi trap wife
making it one thousand, at a time…
a very hard time.

###

Note: This poem is a few days aged, and I’ve got more coming, as this is a crucial time for me wherein my poetry and the art of others is literally keeping me alive, but I just really want to express at the close of National Transgender Awareness week, on this Transgender Day of Remembrance, how much J feel for all my transgender siblings out there, because we are not just ignored and excluded in society, but shunned and made pariahs by those who think we have no right to exist.

…and I never imagined being who I was would be this hard, or that my path would be so terribly lonely. But I’m here with you. And as long as you are here, I will be. Because someone you don’t know needs your courage. Who fucking knew that simply existing could be such an act of defiance – but it’s an act of defiance against hate, and thusly, is an act of love. And all acts of love [Love = ‘wanting happiness for another’.] are worthy, just like you 🧸 🎈

Damnit Lenise

the sadness deep: pain;
poetry’s the only place the awake speak plain –
maya, illusion, plato’s cave,
we’re the shadow puppets they watch,
on whose downfall sus glances pray
from those who long fearing our rise, made sure we were imvisible to naked eyes,
in poverty, blind,
at the center of some labrynth