Posts
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Don't Wait Up- Prologue
This is the opening sequence/prologue to my Orpheus and Eurydice rewrite (partially inspired by Hadestown with the tracks and all but I have never seen the musical) in 1860s cowboy Texas!
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Morning Thoughts
Forever viridescent under a simple golden hue
Grass and trees and beautiful clouds that shape our world anew
Iridescent skies, viridescent earth, oh what a sunrise
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Dream of Me?
I dream about you still,
do you dream of me?It is no grand affair, these dreams
not of your smile, your hands, your kindnessyour cruelty
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Love and Community
I remember when I fell in love with eagles and oak trees,
with green grass, warm summers, and fireworks.I fell in love with what now is brushwood for a fire
that red white and blue decided to ignite. -
Ophelia by Millais (1851)
Why does Ophelia look so calm?
Calm in calamity, peaceful in perishing
Why does she look so calm?
She died in a fit, she died in anger
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Mother's Tongue
Quand j'étais petite j'aimais ma mère,
mais maintenant j'adore la langue de ma mere.Elle parle Français. Moi, je parle anglais
Je fais semblant je ne parle pas Français alors
elle ne parle pas avec moi
Loves
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My Coming Out Story
Growing up when I was younger, I was raised in a very homophobic, transphobic family. I was taught that being anywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum was evil and would send you to hell.
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How did we get here?
How did we get here?
With a man who lies
and stirs the storm,
who turns hate into headlines
and power into a joke. -
New Years 2025
Footprints of tourists painting the sand,
The cries of the ocean berating the land.
Chappell Roan and milestones,
Informing the world we aren’t fighting alone.
Ten teenagers talking til the old year gives way,
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On Forgiving the Dust in My Piano
Dear daughter of Earth,
I am not naked, rose-lipped, chapped and chaste in a poetic caste and silhouetted erotically before sunset and starlight like the Thinker gazing across foreseeable perpetuity.
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Gaslighting in the Medical System: The Darkside of Mental Health Awareness
I am eight. I sit across from my mom in my pediatrician’s office on the paper-covered table. The paper is crinkled and uncomfortable. My mother’s head is cupped in her hands as the pediatrician leaves the room.
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Remembrance
Cracked pavement tells the story that time refuses to forget.
And while tree roots weave their way underneath the ashen pavement,
Time is dripping away from me.