Calico Frost

A boy sat under a hazy sun, paper airplane in hand.  Words stretched along the creases, telling of a world he wished he knew: one of a golden sun you couldn’t meet the gaze of, fields full of green grass and wildflowers, and sparkli

I feel useless

Unproductive

No one needs me right now

Good

I have nothing to do

B o r e d o m.

I can't stop thinking about you

I assign myself tasks

Keeping me occupied

The aliens saw Earth and left.

In a community of acceptance,

there is a lack of understanding

for the A

in LGBTQIA. 

It’s easier to point fingers

than interlock fingers

or tap fingers to chins,

thinking,

He flew into my life on a Tuesday. 

All feathers, no job. 

Smelled like breadcrumbs and bad decisions. 

He coo’d at me like I was the last French fry in a drive-thru bag. 

And I believed him.