i think
the reason
i enjoy organizing books
and tangible things
for fun
is the same reason
i can’t seem
to organize
my digital
life
physicality is separate
from me
from my mind
so i have some semblance
of control
over
it
virtual
online
digital
means to an end
end up emulating
what my brain is doing
so disorganization
is the only way i
survive
(i wish
there was another
way to
thrive)
words are unworthy
of the emotions of tragedy
they cheapen the expanse of feeling
to two-dimensional digestion
for others’ entertainment
but words are all i have
and my brain tends to forget how to feel
in these moments anyway
so while my mind starts in on the journey
of comprehension
before my heart catches up
(which’ll be in a day or two or three
i expect)
i’ll say the only words
that keep coming up
and up again
i hope (and believe) you knew you were so loved
and say hello to Lynnette for all of us, please
and we still believe
in The Power
Of Good
had big enough feels
to feel the need
to express it
sans poetry
via prose
and who knows
how that ended up
but i might re-read
and edit
and submit it
at a later date
so folks who might not know
start to understand
how emotional labor
takes its
toll
i can do it
i can reach out
i can cold call
and cold email
and cold submit
because i won’t learn
what i’m doing ‘wrong’
until i at least
put myself out there
and try
not feeling
anything
(writing
listing
poetry-ing)
was i this
lost
this time
last
year?
~~~
trying
to writing
with songs with words
we’ll see how this goes
~~~
was music all i needed
for me to feel like
this is a real morning???
a word
to those
who misgender:
if we stop correcting you
it does not mean
it’s all right
in fact
the opposite
is true;
it hits us
hard
each time
to the point
where
we simply
shut down.
the energy to stand up for oneself
drains more and more
each instance
]
\[;’
;Po
[this poem is from the puppy
by way of her favorite
red tennis ball]
most
genderqueer folks
i know
(myself absolutely included)
would give anything
to be
a metamorphmagus–
not to live in the world
that TERF jk created–
but to be able
to fit our outside appearance
to what it is inside
as it changes
daily
some days i’d be
flat chested
small hipped
medium hight
the perfect twink
to flirt and tease and captivate with ease
and some days i’d be so ripped
so big
so swole
(imagine
being able to change your muscle density
at will–
to be able to build the strength
instantaneously–
what a circus dream)
and some days
i might
go back to this body
(or similar,
still probably
with less mass
most places,
but especially
at the chest
and side hips)
change my hair
to fit my mood–
no more dye necessary
to complete the rainbow–
but also
on days i want to just fit in
and pass by
i could
with the blink of an eye
a thought of the mind
visualize and divine
and for acting,
for roles,
never worrying
if i might be tall enough
or blonde enough
or thin enough,
no more worrying
about appearance as casting
only go for things
that hit my soul and personality
and make me feel something
if only
if only
if only
i cry
into the void
up towards the sky
out to a world where magic
ceases
the minute it reaches
me
or at least that’s how
it feels
to not fully be
meta
morph
magus
what a transphobic
existence
puppies up
Kips awake
cats a-hassling
a morning
a day
here in our
little haunted home
yesterday
was national coming out day
and as a professional queer
i should have said/posted something
but as a hermit-in-residence
i’ve avoided most social interactions
digital or otherwise
so where does that leave me?
kipventures 