look
everything is changing right now
I know everything is always changing but right now
Right Now
my entire existence is morphing
it’s like being at the centre of the cocoon
but the cocoon is actually a tornado
and noise and reason are gone and it’s just
neon coloured wind
ripping violently around my
Everything
to the point where my eyes keep blinking asking
Did we ever exist?
Do we exist now?
How can we move beyond the neon
Into some form of reality where
light is carved from pastels and
glances land like butterflies
Not acid
upon our cheeks
How now? from this point on the societal compass? and
did we ever survive?
or was Tomorrow always just a fairy tale subconscious whispered over the
crackling of everything we dared to dream of burning
Necessity wriggling into a seven inch strap on and
fucking our struggling minds into
Orgasmic Believing
(after all, we needed something to keep us paying rent to Survival)
dripping glitter over bloodied brows
raking manicured fingers caked in sores
Through our hair?
Loud speakers float down Yonge st
Praising the gay gods that our day has cum and he’s
ejaculating brand name equality™️, hunni
and the corporate dick pics slide down
throats so easy with all that pride sale lube
but we still walk home close to the walls after midnight
after you scrub the pride off your face
bathtub drains across the gta coughing up sparkles
you still yell “faggot” at crosswalks like it tastes like candy in your mouth
you still whisper to your children, eyes on us in crowded street cars
And we still wake up inside bodies that have fought to understand
their complicity in the word PRIDE
hoping each time we leave the house that today
is the day you stop calling our identities a costume
And I’m not mad at you
because who wouldn’t want to dress in sparkles
and call it a battle won?
But the battle isn’t won when the glitter runs with blood and the people in the trenches are not handed the deed to Humanity so
When?
When?
My siblings are bleeding everyday for the crime of trying to exist in your world
When will you let us be human?
About the Creator
breton lalama
Multi medium artist who's really into exploring tiny huge moments. @bretonlikethecrackers (he+they)
Keep reading
More stories from breton lalama and writers in Poets and other communities.
Two Sides of the S[h]ame Coin
I am now emerging from my first years on the frontlines of adulthood. My face is dirt streaked, my lips are bruised by words I’ve since learned the art of uttering, yet I am still breathing, heart still galloping. Often still, my thoughts caress the dog eared pages of my memories of what came before. The days of my childhood were steeped in the nectar of farm life—chickens scampering underfoot while I belted Broadway show tunes to the trees, competing with the soprano voices of the birds who made nests inside the scarecrow’s placid head. The afternoons of summer were long and thinking of them conjures up the sensation of crushing sun-warmed tomatoes with my teeth, the pop of acidic juices exploding against the inside of my cheeks. I would gather the nights up in bunched handfuls and curl them around my shoulders in the comfort of my childhood bedroom. Once my parents’ footsteps had fallen far enough downstairs, the few moments of strained listening, the careful inhalations and exhalations of suspense’s orchestration, and then:
By breton lalama4 years ago in Poets
Create Your Personal Vocal Homepage
I'm not a Vocal Newbie (not that there's anything wrong with that), and I'm technologically comfortable. But, I'm also perhaps too comfortable. I think I know, even if I know that I don't know what I don't know, I still think I know more that I do know.
By Judey Kalchik 2 days ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.