The lights in each of the doll houses are off.

I, a giant, wander insignificant

Among the grains of sand.

When at last I reach the sea,

I let it take me, 

Dirt and grime and grease

All caked into my hair and skin

Everything,

And I let my body crest across the waves,

Away across the waves.

We lie tired

Bundled up in puffers and scarves

On the pleather seats of the bus that felt like home. 

You rummage through your red lunchbox, 

Unpacking each item carefully 

Announcing to everyone what’s inside

Making us laugh, 

Only to throw it away. 

You open the window, 

Allowing the cold to rush in,

Chilling our faces and turning our cheeks frosty pink. 

We laugh as each baby carrot 

And quarter of a sandwich, 

Would tumble to the rushing road below. 

We toss starburst wrappers behind the last seat, 

Watching them pile up 

And get neglected by the janitor. 

Sweet elementary adrenaline 

Felt like real rebellion. 

The bus becomes a haven 

A relic of childhood 

A place of fun in the dark of dawn, 

And in the golden light of an autumn afternoon. 

In the dead of dusk 

Today I yearn 

Close my eyes and just pretend 

That I once more 

Will rest my head on my backpack 

And borrow your headphones

Listening to music that only you like, 

But it’s okay. 

Because on the bus, 

Nothing was wrong with the world. 

Rumbling away from a childhood dream

Went bus 34. 

and all his other songs, album covers mostly variations of a homesick grayish-green. Acoustic guitar thrumming through the speakers in steady 4/4 time. The morning sunlight coming in the window clean and bright, arcing across my pillows like a rainbow I haven’t seen in a long time. My walls are empty, or at least some of them are, finally, nails hanging weightless as Noah’s voice when the beat drops away and he leans in for the bluish dreamlike ocean of a finishing swell.

i learned
life liberty
the pursuit of happiness
before i learned
how often a promise
can hesitate

no one mentioned
how often you’d have to prove
you deserved the words

i’ve learned on my own
there are places 
where i soften my voice
where i let people assume
something easier about me

it works
and that makes me angry
in a quiet way

no one taught me that part
of the experiment

i don’t think the declaration lied
i think it promised too soon,
before it understood
how selective belief can be

equality sounds simple
until you ask
who gets to move through a room
unchallenged

liberty feels clean
until it depends
on who’s watching

happiness
is the strangest part
something you’re told to chase
but never slow down for

maybe the experiment isn’t failing
maybe it’s just honest
about what it still refuses
to give freely

i want to believe
those words were written
for breath
for bodies
for voices like mine

no one told me
they might not be.

I stopped standing the day that everyone else stopped standing for us

I have not put my hand over my heart in over a year because what is there to hide?

I was born here with the blonde hair and blue eyes

I have no trouble walking on the streets in that regard

Though the anatomy dilemma is a different ordeal

As well as every other political, religious, and geographical sector

But still

Every day I fantasize

To leave before my 20th birthday

It is my gripping hold on life

because I will never stay in this country where

I can't even get a job or find a life for myself

Germany

Switzerland

Denmark

Finland

Sweden

Anywhere

Please I need to get out of my town

that is growing evermore a reflection glinting orange

Every day I look up at what used to be a golden sun burning through our world as an ethereal being to my small mind

It changed when I looked to my side to see chains everywhere

digging into my skin 

my chest

my hips

and organs

and rights

lips pressed shut

silenced for a man to open when I am of age

If that is the hand that feeds me

then I gladly will bite down till I taste blood

to imaginative lines across an Atlantic journey built to protect, 

not wage war and bind the weak to imprisoning duty.