Welcome to my garden

Take a deep breath.

Exhale.

Slow down.

Do you want to plant a garden with me?

Be the change you want to see.

Go out and spread your seeds

All you really need is one

To start a forest.

To see big beautiful trees.

Or maybe we can plant some food

To nourish our bodies

And our minds.

Some food for thought.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

I am still working,

though finishing up.

Got water and animal food.

If only we could manifest gas.

I sit at my truck as I wait.

It is warm in the truck;

the wind keeps my arm cool.

I shiver, and do nothing to change it.

I like it.

I feel alive.

A group of people dine outside -

close enough for me

to hear their conversation.

I do not mean to pry,

I just can't help but hear them.

They're talking about tattoos

and whether or not they are a sin.

One of them jokes about

getting a cross

tattooed on their ass cheek.

They talk about church

and their beliefs.

They talk about how many

people there have tattoos.

I do not make any

inclination that I can hear them.

In fact, I try not to.

Although I shoot them

a disapproving glance

when I hear one of them

say something vaguely racist.

They stop abruptly

and the group dissipates.

They would have anyway,

it's getting late.

The restaurant is busier

than I had expected it to be

at this hour.

As they chatted amongst each other,

I couldn't help but wonder

if they knew my brother.

Then I feel weird.

I do not mean to make assumptions.

He has a crowd he hangs out with.

They get consumed by the holy spirit,

sometimes even encounter god.

He talks of his tales

and of pastors who tell him

they were called by god,

to tell him that he was born

to be an evangelist.

He speaks of things he doesn't understand

and casts judgement among those,

like I, who do not believe

nor conform.

He'll spend late nights out,

and come home at dawn.

My mom comments on his absence,

as if he were not nearly twenty six.

It is none of my business nor concern,

but I wonder if he knows them.

He has plenty tattoos.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

What a time.

It all flashed

in the blink of an eye.

It was a lie.

It was a lie.

I should have known.

I guess I did,

but I should have known.

If that were the case,

this hurt would be

less intense.

I should have known.

I didn't come out to grandma;

you told her for me.

Made some crude joke

about me wanting to fuck pans.

I was only nineteen.

She was supportive,

at least to my face.

I can see her kind smile;

feel her warm embrace.

Did she lie?

I would know...right?

I would know.

Not only did grandma love me;

she respected me.

I would know.

You never respected me,

from the start.

I believed what I wanted,

had hope in my heart.

Mom would tell me I was straight,

but you supported me.

Well, you made fun of me

but never denied who I was.

(to my face apparently)

Up until today -

after you sent a gif of fire and snakes.

Said it was me.

Said you don't believe it

and never will.

Said it's just the old school in you,

you still love me no matter what.

That is a lie.

It was a lie.

I should have known.

How could I have known?

Written by AprilFool 🐸

The day was a heavy weight.

Year two of his second term;

six months in.

Two and a half years in -

feels like it's been ten.

Ita been heavy.

Care to sit with me?

American or not.

Humans are at odds with each other

all over and it is a lot.

I am happy that you are here.

Happy you're still getting up;

still breathing.

Sometimes that's all we can do,

get through the day.

Just please make sure

that you save some time

for the little things

that bring you joy.

Create art.

Buy a coffee.

Go for a walk.

Sing a little tune,

whether good or bad.

You can get through this.

We can get through this.

It is slow,

yet happening within

the blink of an eye -

though we are getting through this.

You are not alone;

I will remain at your side.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

In the distance,

is the sound of drumming.

Erratic and energetic.

A flash of lightening

as the guitar riff starts.

The bass thumps as thunder claps.

The wind picks up

to carry a melody.

It echos as leaves and twigs

are swept into the breeze

alongside small bits of dirt and stone.

The note is high; voice feminine.

The god begins to harmonize

with herself as the twigs

carry the tune into the wind.

If you look closely,

you can see her.

A perfectly crafted nose.

Eyes the color of honey.

Dark curly hair

that reaches her full bare breasts;

skin that shines gold in the sunlight.

Her voice is both haunting

and elegant.

The symbols smash

as tunder booms once more.

Her image dissipates

as she lets out another high note.

This one ending in a low growl,

taking on a more masculine sound.

The stones and dirt swirl in the air

as he lets out a scream.

The guitar goes wild.

View him strut along the clouds;

watching the raging storm intensely,

through piercing blue eyes.

Sweat beading down his flat chest.

Messy, curly hair

stopping where there would be breasts.

Baggy shorts hug his slender waist.

A large gash in the thigh of the fabric,

reveals milky colored skin.

He shimmers under the moonlight.

Her vocals mix with his

as the lightening flashes

and thunder roars.

The rock god takes on

any and all forms.

Those are his two favorite,

when he is not in the depths

of the wind.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

Do your best to stay safe, have fun, and live your best life! I love you all. Have a wonderful day!

Posted by AprilFool 🐸

Let us rejoice in their name.

In their glory.

Let us break out this vinyl

and blast these fine tunes.

Drink in the divine gold,

that is our rock gods voice.

Let us join hands;

let us form a pit.

May we rock the roof roof down.

Rejoice.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

And on the seventh day

god said:

"Let there be music."

Loud and abrasive

or quite and calming.

Let there be music.

Let us sing of our pain.

Let us scream of injustice.

Let us swing our hips

and groove to the beat.

Let us express ourselves.

Written by AprilFool🐸

Press this towel to my face.

Firm and intentional.

Streams of dirty tears

run down my cheeks.

I am not the answer you seek.

I am only the fruit you bear.

Sweet and juicy.

Life giving despite your belief

that I am rotten to the core.

Cut me open;

reveal my pit.

Serve me out in slices.

I cannot sustain myself -

the least I can do

is sustain you.

Remove the towel.

An imprint of my face remains.

Eat my fruit.

Glory to this day.

Glory to my name.

Glory to my fate.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

They have a history

of prying into my business.

They used to go through my belongings.

They used to read my texts.

They used to read my private writings.

They used to be in control of my worries.

They still don't respect boundaries.

They needed to know everything.

They are my parents

and they just need to know that I'm safe, is their claim.

Their excuse.

They sat down with us,

their arsenal ready;

set on pushing every button on me.

"How are you two doing? Are you still together?"

Dad asked my partner and I.

"Prove it."

He added after I said we were good.

"Plant a big juicy kiss on him"

I turned to my boyfriend

and outstretched my arm,

revealing an open palm.

I could feel their gaze bore into me

as he returned my high five.

That's all you're getting.

I said calmly,

as the anger bubbled in my chest.

That's as much proof as you get

without me having sex on the couch

in front of you.

They answered with uncomfortable laughter.

Mom glanced at dad,

Dad made a comment about

hearing giggling from the closed

bathroom door when we last showered.

I told him that's weird,

because it is.

The subject was thankfully dropped;

we went back to the family meeting.

I don't like how this makes me feel.

I will jump through their hoops

no more.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

We are on two different paths;

it makes me sad to see the parallel line.

I am on the side of morals and ethics;

you sit on the religious far right.

I suppose we both walk

a slippery slope.

Putting ourselves out there.

For separate reasons -

in our own way,

at our own pace.

Both claiming light,

though always opposing.

Your religious chats

are shrouded in hypocrisy.

I will choose to burn

before I submit to what you believe.

You force others to give up their views;

to concede.

You say that you speak of the truth.

All I hear is fallacy.

Shame the nonbeliever.

Force me to convert,

you can try.

I have my own freedom

in what I believe.

You can't take that away

with your dressed up lies.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

Every day it is the same

and a vein is about to pop

right out of my neck.

Same ole shit -

same damn rethoric.

Hissing dressed up lies.

Calling for demise.

Justify with religious roots.

Fighting with the pope.

Our governments a joke.

Our leader is a pedofile.

Our leader is a murderer -

detaining hundreds of thousands

of people in unliveable conditions.

Our leader has no interest in the poor, the struggling, or disabled.

Our leader only has devote loyalty to himself.

This nation is built on lies.

We took away it's greatness

the moment we colonized it;.

the moment we stole this land.

We had potential as we progressed -

only to be squashed down again

by another white man seeking control.

May the Trump name

only bring shame.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

It follows me.

Home.

Through the shadows.

Away from the sunlight.

It will eat me alive if I let it.

I try not to let it.

I have spent my entire life

crafting an escape plan.

Every sin I committed.

Everything I ever did wrong,

bubbled in my chest

until it reached my throat.

I confessed my sins,

like I was carefully crafted to.

Worry kept me awake late at night.

That bubbling wouldn't stop.

I told mom and dad of my every misdeed, just so I could sleep.

That led to an awfully guarded adult.

I hold my troubles

in the heart of my palm

and keep them close to my chest.

A well kept secret,

only for I to know.

That is,

until I choose to spill it.

It is no secret

that I cannot afford to live.

Rent. Gas. Food. Bills.

Animals. Water. Rent. Brakes.

Rent. Rent. Rent.

Always rent.

Immense guilt.

I can't keep my roof

over my head.

I have to ask them for money,

again.

A reminder that I

take up space.

A reminder of how easy it is

to get stuck in my damn head.

A reminder.

An ugly festering reminder

of the guilt they have planted;

I try my hardest to resist.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

I am scared every day.

I will not pretend I'm not.

I am tired of hearing people say

that if you are scared,

you are weak.

Doing it despite being scared,

is what makes you brave.

Pushing through your fears and

staring them in the face

as you persevere,

is what makes you brave.

Pushing someone while they are down -

is not bravery.

It is mean.

It is malice;

as is causing mass fear.

Being kind in this climate,

is brave.

Standing up and choosing to keep your voice,

is brave.

If you still have a voice,

use it while you can.

Continue to be brave.

The cost right now,

may be someone

being rude or mocking.

The cost if we are complacent,

can be your very life.

I do not want to die -

especially for simply being kind,

but pushing through

despite that fear

is pretty damn brave.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

Learning a new skill is scary.

Overwhelming.

I have this bad habit.

If I am not good at something immediately, I want to give up.

I used to do that with drawing.

I do it now with sewing.

I wouldn't let myself do that

with video editing -

and I feel proud.

I like it.

It doesn't matter if I suck.

I'll get better with time.

I think it stems from my childhood.

Don't most things?

I have spent years

attempting to get out of that mindset.

I can't get better if I don't practice.

I can't practice if I don't try.

I can do hard things.

I do do hard things.

I prove that to myself

every day.

You can do hard things too.

Please take this as a sign

to not give up.

Keep trying,

despite it being hard.

I promise that you will get there.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

5/27/2026

Also if you haven't checked it out yet, below is a link to my youtube! I am super new and just getting started on there, come support me if you like. I gab and do art and I'm funny sometimes. Above all, I'm weird as hell