Artist

I’m an artist without artistic talent

A visionary with no eye-hand coordination

Keeper of vibrant dreams, seen only by my third eye

I’m a wordsmith suffering from silencing anxiety

Collector of hand-me-down ideas

My vocal road rage surprises me

I’m a better driver when I’m alone

I’m a workaholic with a new year’s resolution

To not work next new year’s day, one long year away

I’m a night owl working day shifts

I’m a closet non-binary person missing her gay best friend

One killed himself, the other I dated

Relationships with friends are ill-fated

Not that I recommend dating strangers either

But at least you won’t lose a friend in the end

I’m a newly married polyamorist

I’m currently in the market for amethyst

I fear hurting others so much that I withhold truth

Thank you for letting me share these self-evident truths with you

Whatever your hopes are for the new year, I hope you receive them

Though things often don’t go the way we want them to

Know that you are enough just as you are, and many people are sharing the struggle alongside you

When feeling trapped and overwhelmed, open the door to liberation

Remember that you are not your thoughts

When in doubt, take a breath

Even while standing, sit and pause

Bi-Curiouser and Curiouser

I feel bi-curiouser and curiouser
Is it because of my genes that my eyes follow the curves of ladies’ jeans?
Is it because I was molested by my mother that women intrigue me?
Or is it because I suffered so many violations by men when I was younger
That I became a commercial sex worker just to profit from my skills
And now have fear and rage toward Y chromosome carriers,
That I fantasize about women more and more?

Women are beautiful
Visualizing their bodies near me,
I erupt in earth-moving orgasms

I am more bi-curious every day

To the point that bi is no longer a question- is the answer to why being with a man never felt quite right and at night I dream of they and I, the invitation of their thighs

I want to read you cover to cover, my bi-curious lover

Their eyes are bluer than any other.

Our love is pure albeit undercover.

They are not she or he

They are we