Loneliness
floating
on an autumn leaf,
winter turns to spring
so please speak softly:
we do not want to scare the buds.
They may hear the truth,
like a riddle
read off the page
and asked to solve for entry:
a one-way ticket over the bridge
from single to taken,
a world where kisses do not betray
and suitors come equipped
with emotional intelligence
and a bow and arrow.
I hear cupid,
underground,
readying himself up—
just another risk
the Earth will take.
April 10, 2019
To my beautiful baby brother:
you have to grow up in an age of social media
and all of its toxins
and it is not your fault.
You have no control over it,
nor do I.
All I want do to is live it for you—
the suicides,
the mass shooting threats,
every day life in boring ass high school —
keep it boring!
School was meant to be that way,
safe enough to be boring.
Not even the white people are safe,
not even the rich people.
My beautiful Puerto Rican brother:
do you fit in? do you like it? do you not?
Tell me more than “ugh.”
I know your innocent face,
your soul-searching eyes
I have seen your heart
and its pure essence
a thousand times.
I just hope I told you enough stories…
about how much you are loved,
and how smart and kind and handsome
you are, my brother — you can do it,
because it cannot last for much longer.
…
I will take every bullet of some child
calling out for help;
I will relive 9th, 10th — fuck, every grade
if that is what it takes to protect you,
to take up that space of wondering.
The world has changed
in just 10 short years between me and you.
Look at what Facebook has done,
kids sending Snaps 1,000 times a day.
My brother I do not know shit about “SnapChat”
but I know you are more than it,
I promise you.
Everyone is wandering,
looking for more than a screen—
and yet video games have saved you.
Play SmashBros all freaking day
if that is what it takes to save you, my boy,
from giving a damn what people think.
How do I protect you from this world…
this pit of society
that is eating minds and bodies alive?
How do I get you to talk truth?
Who cares “how.”
Know that it is enough to try,
enough to be with yourself,
fully.
Whenever your body yells,
“Trauma!”
“Pain!”
“Greif!”
Cradle every part
and say, “I am here for you, always.”
…
And remember:
your sister is here for you.
Always.
March 29, 2019
bits of masculinity:
I feel more real this way.
Do I miss the flowing hair?
A veces … the high ponytails
and free forehead.
When I dress more “masculinely,”
when I embody that “ethos”
I flow out of some societal lens,
into some truth
that maybe the earth does have “feminine energy” —
astrology teaches it and lesbians believe it —
but I am a Capricorn and I am content
being grounded in brown boots
and only Earth below.
When we say masculinity belongs to
one group only
what does that say to the rest of us?
Dressing like I am not just
a pretty fucking flower…
it is so liberating
and yet one big fat nada:
it’s all I’ve wanted to be,
want to be,
and have been,
all along.
March 27, 2019
Also, check out this cool video on two folks’ definitions of identifying as non-binary versus androgynous: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsJUDFmauCI
On Fridays,
I volunteer to bring food from companies around New York City—
consequently, close to wherever I am to begin with—
and bring it to nearby shelters.
It’s a lot easier than feeling like a shit
as a homeless man walks by on the subway
but what am I, are we, to do?
It’s somehow, in the mess of human history, a collective fault.
One of your great grandmothers or great uncles twice removed
allowed this to happen, god damn it (I wish it was that simple)!
He walks pigeon toed like my brother,
who was bought $3,000 orthotics and attended therapy for years.
He walked past 10, 50, 100 people who look more or less like me
and I don’t care if you’re a Puerto Rican-Italian mix with Brooklyn roots:
You have some money.
You took a shower this week.
You have some way in your pocket or in your chest
to communicate
and be heard…
We are all starfish.
How many do we save?
If you want to volunteer to help rescue food from companies and restaurants around New York City, check out https://www.rescuingleftovercuisine.org/. It’s a simple way to make a difference, and you can choose rescues that best fit your schedule. xo
March 15, 2019
When someone lives
both near
and far
from your heart—
where do you go,
where do you start
to make sense
of that sense of loss,
that sense of time
passing like a train
past white houses
they have sat
and waited,
sat and, sat…
I see Paul in a fresh tuxedo and his bride in a gown
and I laugh:
how could this idiot get to be this “happy” before me?
Bullshit.
How’d this boy once a man cut me out of his social fabric
and still get the chance to be walked down the aisle?
Shit…
men are socialized that way:
the give and take, the call and response.
Somewhere in my heart, I missed you, Paul.
I missed all of you.
But finally, I am waving goodbye…
A throw back in many ways. Thank you, Vanessa Carlton: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SM3fEJyPrrg
February 28, 2019
A huger
of the mind,
a huger
of the soul–
“find that out about your surroundings”
who is who?
I have a friend
who does both–
take care of yourself,
I need to connect
on that deeper level
I am grateful
to have found a match,
to find when I am not looking,
to sing when I am not sung to.
Hollywood is a trick of the eyes
tell me you are more human than the next
“She ain’t lookin’ for love”
no shit, fool– you are white as fuck
and don’t realize it, there is a difference–
watch the children run
and know that spaces are spaces
and home is home
and know it is different for everyone.
Now my friend–
they hold me,
steady me,
validate my existence
just by meeting my mind,
my soul,
right where they are.
A stream of consciousness reflection about my best friend who, while not big on physical hugs, supports me in the ways I really need…all while I listen to shitty rap music (and quote and complain about it) on a long car ride…
February 25, 2019
I called Allie and told her:
“That’s it?”
Okay.
First kisses aren’t supposed to be good, right?
But can I think of kiss with a man that was “special”?
Some felt special…but I never understood why.
With her though…
I felt a hunger beyond thought,
beyond practice —
beyond expectation and protocol.
Do I feel that way with men?
Or is it more me practicing a movement,
an excitement, a momentum I’ve been taught?
The idea of being with her is more all encompassing
than I have felt for anyone else.
But I still know, deep in my soul,
that Adam Levine is hot as fire
and I would have been with Charlie in a heartbeat…
that it’s fun to dominate a guy,
and that I can do it well– ask them.
But am I aching for their touch?
Even with all those long term crushes?
I could play this game all day, comparing
gender
when I’m actually comparing
people
and there is not much more to it than that.
The soft skin — it’s real.
The emotional connection — it’s real.
Wanting to call you, she, they
baby…
that is something I know
I would never want to call a man,
even before my pink brain understood feminism,
before I had a reason to ask Charlie to a ball,
or chase Dan around a school yard.
It just feels more right —
and yet I have practiced this with men all of my life –
how many of us are there?
Chasing people we can never love around a globe, around a city.
It’s unfair to everyone involved, really.
Will I never be with a cis-man?
Of course not.
I have loved men before and I am sure I will again, statistically.
But…
To every bisexual who has every wondered if they were just gay or a lesbian…even when you’re confident in your identity.
October 12, 2019
