Maybe In Another Universe I'm The One You Want

Maybe if he was a little less fuckable we wouldn’t be in this mess

trans men be like hot and shit like they're just hot as fuck like what the fuck man why are you being so hot god damn

Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

Franz Kafka

There's mold on these bones,

Vines encircling the limbs.

Flowers are blossoming all around, and yet none get to us.

Mushrooms lay in their absence, creating a crown.

Movement is hollow.

It rains, no drops reaching my lips:

For they fell off when the worms ate them.

Exhaust and wings flapping around entice my numb senses.

I stand for I can't sit. Everything identifiable has rotten off of me, including ligaments and skin.

No one can tell me she's going to come back.

Wind gushes through, yet still unwavered.

A water stream nearby makes barely a noise, too shallow.

Passersby are never the same, blank faces to never be recognized after; home lays within their town.

Begging to go back to what once was,

All I can do is listen to the nearby churches hymns.

I have so much to say,

warn people so then they would avoid the agony I endured.

If only corpses could roam.

I was talking with my sister last night and it occurred to me that I write a lot of poetry during liminal and intermundane moments. Late at night before I go to sleep. A moment of mental stress. Immediately after awaking from unconsciousness. Feeling trapped between the past and the future. Longing for the beauty of the unattainable past. Stuck in traffic. Out walking at sunset, almost dying from the freezing cold temperature. Meditation on our childhood in the earth. Outside in a thunder storm. Imagining I was out in the woods. Something eerily like demonic possession. Dancing in the rain. Listening to the night sounds at midnight dejection. Melancholy contemplation in an unlit room. A late night obsession. Out, meditating, on a walk. The shock of a murder. Reading apocalyptic literature.

Humans are intermundane beings; thus it only makes sense that our poetry would be the same.

Do you ever wonder how many people have had a crush on you and never told you.

Wao! 50 posts :D

I'm glad to have finally figured myself out, it was a war and a half.

Happy Pride Month to everyone 💞

I'm back by unpopular demand to say thank you lesbians for existing. Happy Pride Month, my fellow lavender menaces.

T4T lesbians. GNC lesbians. BIPOC lesbians. Lesbians who knew they were always queer. Lesbians who figured it out as adults. Lesbians who are still questioning. Lesbians who came out before graduating high school. Lesbians who came out later in life. Lesbians who can't or won't come out. Baby dykes and old dykes. Arospec lesbians. Acespec lesbians. Poly lesbians. Married lesbians. Single lesbians. Long distance lesbians. Lesbians who are roommates. Lesbians that don't realise they've been in a relationship for 7 years. Uhaul lesbians.

Butches I love you. Femmes I love you. Studs I love you. Stems I love you. Futches I love you. Kikis I love you. Blue jeans I love you. Transfems I love you. Transmascs I love you. Stones I love you. Pillow princesses I love you. Dykes I love you. Lesbians I love you.

I have definitely missed some types of lesbians, and for that, I apologise. I'm always open to learning new words and ways lesbians understand themselves. Just know I love every kind of lesbian.

I'm a little sad that one of the few bars that didn't feel hostile towards lesbians and queer people who aren't a very specific type of cis gay man has closed, which is why I felt like I needed to make this post.

The Identifying-as-genderfluid to realizing you have DID/OSDD pipeline