i.
sweet honeyed blood
and dagger-glares
and a door slammed just too softly—
i lay on the floor,
choking on my desire,
realizing my failure
and my success.
rope-bridges snap
and topple
and are lonely
lonely
lonely.
tile is cold on weak knees.
the only option left
was to move forward.
and so i did.
ii.
anger is red
and wet
and suffocating.
paperclips and needle snips
and remember
remember
remember
your lines.
am i not an actor?
i scribbled it all out
in red, red ink.
to err is human.
the future lay unabandoned
and promising.
the only option left
was to move forward.
and so i did.
iii.
"i care too much,"
i tell her,
"it is all too beautiful
it kills me
and revives me
all at once.
how can i be
fixed?"
she was a lotus flower,
i a simple seed.
"a little water,
a little sunlight,"
she said.
"you do not need fixing,
but cultivation."
i looked down at my lack of roots.
"but what if i fail?"
she said nothing,
and she did not need to.
the only option left
was to move forward.
and so i did.
iv.
sunrise on the violet garden.
peach light
and honeybees.
still restless,
still stagnant,
still growing—
but sprouted
and stable
and loved.
a violet caresses me,
she kisses my mouth
and says
"we exist."
and i am warmed
by her affirmation.
there are other paths,
there are other options.
but growth never truly ends.
the only option left
is to move forward.
and so i do.
About the Creator
M.J. Dossey
they/them || lesbian || filmmaker and critic || cares too much
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