The Snow Is Old And Dirty, Full Of Sand And Gravel, Making The Once Pure White Blanket A Sight More Saddening

She covers herself In tattoos And piercings Dyes her hair Many vibrant colors Then says She doesn't like Modified bodies And uses it As a reason Not to be with me

The house spider in my window Is resting for the winter It is her second year here She might not make it to spring She is thin and fragile now I will watch to see if she revives From her gentle hibernation What an impact she has had on me No creature is undeserving of love And I have had so much to give

Some people worry of my isolation They think, "you are alone, this is terrible" I think, you are surrounded, which is worse

They think I need companionship Because they need companionship Because "that eccentric person over the hill Far away from the village must be lonely"

Speak too much and I will stop speaking Get to know me and I will unknow you I have moments of wanting to be known They are fleeting and most often, regretful

This is not some flaw in myself to be fixed Do not teach me to socialize I am solitary and they think I am not thriving

Yes, I am in relationship with the wasteland You read of it like it is not my refuge When the quiet, the solitude, the great alone Carries me like a protective lover, away

What are your dreams? They say What do you mean? I say

Don't you have goals? They ask Nope I laugh

How can you not? They say I guess I'm a sloth I play

You must have a job They say Certainly not I say

Contribute to society! They exclaim I have anxiety I explain

So what do you do? They question I write and I muse I tell them

But what about money? They implore I have enough to be free I retort

What makes you this way? They ask why I'm content all my days I reply

Such wasted life They dismay My world is bright I say

Tell me why you ban the books Which tell stories of Two male penguins adopting a child, Books that show disabled kids And gender non conforming kids And black kids whose teachers Forget their names?

Tell me why you ban the books That challenge you Because they are written plainly About plain people Who are different from you?

Tell me why books are taken off shelves For being too explicitly queer When you force children to read Passages from the bible about Rape, genocide, slavery, and a hateful god? Why is your book not banned For depicting in detail such things?

What makes your book the exception? You censor children from truths And teach them a god will hate them Because they are different You teach children to hate themselves Because your book holds no space for them

The winter cardinals Have finished their work Of raising wobbly chicks Into fierce and steady Juveniles, ready to Graze the sky with the Tips of their wings And soar off gracefully Away on their own breeze A fresh, solo journey

The parents are not Left behind, they are Quietly content, free To fly wherever they please The male a radiant scarlet And she such prominent earth Tones, the blazing yellow Of their beaks like Flames flying by on the Biting morning winds

The serene songbirds Mated for life, they fly Side by side, sharing One current of frigid air Wings spread out together As they glide in sync With nothing more to be Done, they settle in their Empty nest and sleep freely And warmly with each other

Pull me along On those strings you Claim belong to a Heart Carelessly you Dragged me down You tore my Spirit apart

If I were as cruel As you make me feel I would help you Break Sticks and stones Crushing your bones You made a Grave mistake

One day the wind blew All the leaves down off the trees And they were bare I saw the birds just sitting there Preening their new winter feathers Two sitting on a branch together

Their nests were empty Broken and falling down Sticks and bits all on the ground Babies all long flown away On that branch they said goodbye Now they huddle side by side

I wonder why they stick around When all the others go Maybe they just like the snow Something I will never know I watch them sleeping in that tree A little rest and finally some peace

It's in the way you tuck your hair Behind your ear In the way you speak your words Soft and clear In how you make yourself feel close Like you are here The way you navigate the world And hold your fears

It's in the way you tilt your head In photographs The way you light up when you're glad Your sneaky laugh It's how you say what's in your heart And don't hold back How you are strong and hold your own But don't attack

It's in the way your forge your path No compromise When you let me walk with you I get butterflies I love to see which way you go Every surprise Love is in the way you dream Watching the skies

Love is how you've looked at me With kindest eyes Love is when you hold my hand And don't patronize How you've been vulnerable with me Not afraid to cry It's how we let each other breathe Without cutting ties

An artist can insert light into the world Reach into their own acid stomach Pulling out their intestines Shining, glowing, posing as hope Let me make it so Let me take my own guts in my hands Twist them and turn them Into a blue and red balloon animal Give it to our tired country The rotten thing does not fester Inside me today. Can I do it? I want to take pieces of myself That have atrophied and heal them Turn them into something resembling art