From the beginning of creation,

Women have been underneath the growing nation.

We sat and were forced to watch for decades,

Underneath what men called “the shade.”

But submission is temporary.

Our differences define our Beauty,

like the intricate details of every snowflake,

standing out from each other,

not in a bad way,

not in a sad way,

but in a beautiful way,

Don’t kill my birds.

Tommy pays taxes.

April runs a side hustle selling cursed bath bombs on Etsy.

They have dreams.

They have a 401k.

They just bought a tiny house in a haunted forest

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,

Who is telling the story 

Of the little girl who got raped on her way home

From school

Who is telling the story 

Ya know

Sometimes I don’t think

That things will ever get better

Sometimes I don’t see

How they really could

But I’m not always like that

Sometimes I think

“Maybe someday”

“Maybe it will improve”

Take me to the Karakoram Road, I beg—

Where the mountains meet the rivers, 

Entwined with the pathways of cracked cement

the bus driver glared at me

like i was a sin to society;

he called me a fag—under his breath,

and i got in my seat like nothing happened. 

They came to this country

Seeking a better life.

They started

With a suitcase and

A one-way ticket.

They said goodbye to

Their friends

i hope that you rest easy as the world

tumbles down into fire

for you did everything you could

& we didn't do enough. it was never

your fate to carry the failures of

common sense & education, but now

at all, 

1, 2, 3, 4, 

all go in and out the other side, 

it's always been this way, 

kindergarten and getting in trouble because I could not solve,

2 minus 5. 

No matter how far I run

how loud I scream

how hard I try

I'm never fast enough

never loud enough

never good enough.

Because even if I am,

I'm not.