The life that I’ve created

Look at the things I’ve collected The life that I’ve created The space I now let myself hold Even if others hate it SWD 05/2021

Seeds

To say we are each Connected to the universe Is an understatement It would be like saying A seed is connected to the flower The seed is not only connected It was born from the flower And very much a part Of the flower’s being And as new flowers Can blossom from the seed New…

Butch

I finally read Stone Butch Blues And I think I understand why my mind Wanted to push this story aside It hurts just as much as I thought it might And its nudging open doors that I’ve been barricading since childhood SWD 03/2021 Stone Butch Blues

Belly

I wanna love that belly of yours Massage the thick barrier Protecting the system that keeps you alive Press my hands into its softness Kiss my finger tips along its gentle curve Make you think “Fuck anyone that says my belly isn’t beautiful” SWD 02/2021

Curious Beyond Belief

Curious beyond belief Desperate to be good Too stubborn to follow rules That many say I should Though I talk to You each morn I question it every day But hopefully You understand If You made me this way SWD 06/2018 Updated 01/2021

Research

Research is often Not about what you find But what you don’t find And life has felt Very much the same way Constantly searching For my place and meaning And finding it more helpful To figure out Where I don’t fit Than where I do SWD 01/2021

Parallel to a Forest

I wish to outstretch my limbs Stand tall and sturdy against strong winds But gentle enough to let the world in Offer shelter within my leaves Soak up the sun and catch the breeze Oh, to grow parallel to a forest of trees SWD 04/2018 Updated 12/2020

Wildfire

Wildfire, wildfire My, how you spread From thawing hearts To burning heads Marveled by your light Most fail to see You slowly but surely Consuming their trees First a small flame To help them keep warm Then fanning your flames ‘Til they pray for a storm SWD 07/2017 Updated 09/2020

Fill my lungs with roaring tides

I have a tight grip to this railing But absolutely none to hope To what am I suppose to cling When I’ve slid to the end of my rope? A breeze brushes my eyelids Reminding me where I stand The sound of crashing waves to rocks And deep waters reach for my hand It would…