Happy Pride

I wish a

“Solemn Wrath”

to the people

who can’t yet

muster up “Happy”,

or “Pride”.

To the folx

who realized

why it was

that they

wanted to kill

themselves,

only to realize

that now

there’s a

huge faction of

vocal and cruel idiots

that want you dead

instead of you

and you have to wonder

at every moment

if you are worth it

if you are real

if you are more than a plague

if you aren’t really an abomination

when mothers

clutch their children

away from you

in the goddamn grocery store,

to you I wish an armor

so mirrored and fabulous

that you might return

every laser gaze of hate

with a reflection of understanding,

followed by a spiraling dance of non-caring,

and an eye shattering glow of exposure,

bringing to light the hateful hearts

of those that wish

to strike you down.

Unfinished Daddy Issues Poem

My father says I can’t be a man because I express too much. I’m a slave to my emotions, and I’m using a gender transition to stuff my trauma. 

I feel. 

I sit. 

I process.

and everything I make is steeped in emotion, every drip of paint or drop of ink or flash of flame or cut or weld or arc is sacred feeling encapsulated in a single moment on canvas or metal but then 

I feel.

I sit. 

I process.

and I abandon those loving harsh moment of truth in closets because they are past truths and they are therapy and they exist for me.