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@thejitterypoet
Solstice
Longest night of the year
Nights filled with longing
I look up and the moon and wonder why Iām made like this
Why I feel like this
I have been trying so hard to let go
But it seems like almost all of my nights are filled with pining
And I wonder
How it would feel to be wrapped up in your arms
Looking up at the moon
On the longest night of the year
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āshe is so beautiful and i have a dream where this is something i can say out loud, where she is something i can love out loud, where we are more than blacked out names on the family tree or cautionary tales. this time, we walk the streets in daylight. this time, the love is not a scarlet letter. this time, it is a flag we will never let fall. it is uncaged, unashamed, unrelenting. she is the farthest thing from a secret and i am the farthest thing from afraid. every kiss doesnāt taste like a bullet, my body isnāt full of exit wounds.ā
ā FORBIDDEN FRUIT || s.o.
You
You used to wrap yourself up in fairytales like a blanket. But it was the cold you loved. Sharp shivers as you uncovered The corpses of Bluebeardās wives. Sweeter goosebumps as Prince Charming slid one glass slipper over your little toes. Perfect fit.
But by the school yard real princesses floated by you on fall winds. You saw the gulf between you and the rich girls and vowed to stop believing in fairytales. But the stories were in you, deep as poison.
If Prince Charming was real. If he could save you,You needed to be saved from the unfairness of everything. When would he come?
ā¦
You learned you didnāt have whatever magic turns a beast into a prince. You surrounded yourself with the girls you always resented. Hoping to share their power. And you hated yourself. And that diminished you even more. And then, right when you thought you might disappearā¦ he saw you.
And you knew somewhere deep it was too good to be true. But you let yourself be swept, because he was the first strong enough to lift you. Now in his castle you understand, Prince Charming and Bluebeard are the same man. And you donāt get a happy ending unless you love both of him.
Didnāt you want this? To be loved? Didnāt you want him to crown you? Didnāt you ask for it? Didnāt ask for it? Didnāt you ask for it?
So say you live like this. Say you love him. Say thank you. Say anything but the truth, āwhat if you canāt love him back?ā
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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āAnd I am still sensitive, perhaps more than I should be,ā
ā Yves Bonnefoy, from Selected Prose & Collected Writings;Ā āSeven Fires,ā
July 4 2019
Our world is burning and we are setting it on fire
Clouds look like mushrooms and we are sending chemicals into the air
Air that burns when you breathe in
Pop-pop-pop
Are those gunshots or fireworks?
Iāve had to learn how to tell the difference
Our world is dying and weāre shooting black power into the sky to celebrate
Lightening strikes behind the clouds, separate
Like the earth is rioting at our carelessness
I wonder if they teach the children in cages forced from their parents the national anthem
I wonder if theyāre singing along today, too
June 15: First Pride
Lights flash as we dance to the beat
Looking around, I see people like me
I can hardly believe where I am
Dancing in a bar in New Orleans
With my two best friends and we celebrate our identities
In one of the biggest parades Iāve ever seen
Rainbows flicker behind my eyelids
I can still see the colors swirling even when my eyes are closed
Women kiss in the streets
Men hold each otherās hands and grin
This feeling swells up within me
Something that feels like it might burst
I grab my friendsā hands
One on each side, just like it always is
Hoping that they can feel this too
June 18, 2019
My knees are bruised from hard pews, kneeling before an altar
My back is aching under the weigh of this cross
Threatening to break with the burden
Praying for salvation from something
But the room stays quiet, no answers come
And Iām left wondering again if itās all for nothing
How many times have I knelt in front of this altar hoping that someone would hear me?
I donāt know what is up there looking down on us
If there is anyone or anything at all
Maybe this whole thing has just been a show conducted by man himself to keep us all in line
Words preached by a man who says he is divinely inspired
But his definition of divine and mine are leagues different
How could any heavenly being up there condemn me for who I love?
In front of me hangs a man that was supposed to die for me
Who was supposed to have made the ultimate sacrifice because he loves me
But Iām finding it harder and harder to imagine this man as anything else but plaster
Painted with blood, a thorny crown digging into his skull
I have spent so long looking up at him, wondering if he was looking too
Because I used to feel so much when I prayed to Jesus
All those times imagining that he was taking to me, telling me how much he cared
But Iām starting to wonder if maybe all that time I was just trying to believe in myself
New Acct.
Hey! So I made a new blog so I could post some poetry stuff, wanted to keep it off the main, which is @jitteryjules.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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