Transition (Page 2)

burning orange candles close up (Image: Ivan Kmit)

We are still unable to protect ourselves
and our trans siblings from the destructive power of propaganda, bigotry, hatred, and violence that are still part
of daily life for marginalized communities around the world.

[continue]. . .

A close-up of a dust-covered, dirty computer keyboard.

My mom used to write letters at the end of each year, to keep friends and family up to date on the happenings in our family.

I hadn’t written any poetry in a while. So, in the middle of the night, I wrote a little update letter of my own.

[continue]. . .

Library reading room. Empty wooden swivel chair at wooden library table with book open on the table. Glasses on top of book. Wooden bookcases with blurred bindings of colorful books behind table and chair. A steak knife lies on the floor nearby.

TW: Suicide

I feel my chest heave as I walk through the kitchen.
Heavy breath, warm and wet.
My pace deliberate, pronounced.

Cold steel grazes my neck, awakening memories.

[continue]. . .

A garden of purple, pink, and white sweet pea flowers beside a trellis, with a single red rose blooming among them.

The beauty of a rose,
wrapped tight within the vines,
upon my trellis waiting,
just waiting for her time.

Bursting open, petals stretch
unto the light of day.
Exploding colors all around,
for Spring has come to stay.

[continue]. . .

A photograph of a Monarch butterfly hanging from a cluster of purple and orange flowers

The way that I was made,
the people I have known,
have all played their role,
in the way that I have grown.

All the things I’ve gone through,
the trials I have faced,
all those things, both good and bad,
have led me to this place.

[continue]. . .