When they finally cut you open they found butterflies crawling on your ribcage and flowers where your lungs were supposed to be
An eternal spring in your chest that everyone could feel when you drew near, the kind of green that people craved and needed to breathe
Where your heart was charted lay the biggest, most beautiful gemstone that anyone had ever seen.
They found everything that you tore yourself to pieces looking for, all of the splendor and beauty and precious things that somehow eluded you no matter how hard you searched or how many times you cut yourself open to find. It was all right there, right before their eyes, as dazzling as a thousand suns and majestic as the stars
When they closed your eyes, the starlight had already left them. Galaxies ripped from existence because you would never laugh again, never think of one you loved, never see the first bloom or hear the first bird of spring.
I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if anything really happened. there is still a hole in my chest the size of you that no fresh spring day or starry night can fill up there is no earthly thing that can replace you because you cannot be replaced, you were part of the leaves on the trees and the air that I long for and now you are gone

You started on a conquest for your soul and it led you to a dark forest of branches that twisted to hurt you and wind that whispered lies just loud enough for you to hear that poisoned your spring and closed your eyes forever to the beauty that was inside of you that bloomed out of your wrists when their whispers came back to haunt you crouching, dark, pulsing with your blood not good enough not good enough not good enough
But they were wrong. You were enough. You were more than enough; you were everything that springtime should be.
You walked in as a lioness and out as a lamb
Now it’s winter and I can’t see you in the trees or the sky because everything is silent and cold and dying and the spring inside you is fading because
When they finally cut you open they released your beauty into the world
and it will be a brighter place because of you.

Hey rock-star boy, shaggy hair, loud mouth, striking chords on your guitar
You might as well have been playing my heartstrings
Hey punk-rock t-shirts, smooth voice, bright eyes, I
Caught your glance once or twice
From
Shy girl, scared voice, straight A’s, no choice, I
Might as well have been taking down music notes in my books
Because no mathematical equations would ever add up the way I
Divided my boundaries just to talk to you I
Swore your song was perfect
From
Shy girl, corner dwelling, never speaks up, never acts out, never curses, never cries
There’s a reason guys like you aren’t with girls like me but
Tight hugs, this was different, wide smiles, this was different, soft hands, this was different
And I still somehow believe, you were different
But
Empty promises, fake tears, harsh lies, secret fears, deliberate deceit
Your song was playing on repeat but
The hard rock metal that once pumped blood through our veins was
More like the metal shredding my ribcage I
Felt everything sharper because I
Changed keys for you
Loud girl, sharp tongue, wider smiles, faker love, I
Glued wings to my soul, but let you call me Icarus, I
Fell into the sea
Fast swimmer, quicker to drown, SCUBA diver, sinking down
Oxygen torn from my lungs I
Breathed in different dreams for you I
Reached for different stars for you I
Can never close my eyes around you
Loud girl, center stage, honest tongue, biting rage, always cursing, always cries
Eating my words when you fed me lies
Hey
Rock-star boy
College drop-out, smoke in your lungs, breaking rules just for fun
The only “I love you” I’d ever spoken
The only time my heart was broken
Hey
Punk rock boy
Please get your song out of my head I
Can’t stand to hear this chorus again

I breathe in this silence that is not
Silenced,
Air alive with heartbeats and
Clocks ticking too slow,
Eyes meeting over
Sticky plastic tables,
Snapping away like an awkward blind date,
Fingertips drumming impatiently.
Wait.
Calm.
Be patient.
Tick...tock........tick...............tock

I can't, I won't, my son laying
One floor, 3 hallways, 12 rooms away,
But we are relegated to the hospital cafeteria as if my husband and I are naughty schoolchildren,
Interfering.
My red shirt crumples beneath
Nervous fingers,
The same shade as the blood given
To my son, not knowing it contained
Death.
Why can't I fight with my son,
My son,
Shining brightly and boldly as the sun,
Infected with a blood-borne killer we were never warned about.
Hemophilia is a tough diagnosis,
But my careful worrying wasn't enough to save him from a
Diagnosis of ostracism and certain death.
AIDS.
Oh God.
Breathe.
Can't breathe.
Time moves too fast, my son racing towards eternity
Alone.


White sheets and sterile beds rob
My son of all his sunshine,
Lips blue and pale like my husband's jacket,
Nothing but incessant beeping and bustling nurses who can't fix him,
Clock going tick, tock, tick, tock.
I see red.
Red dripping into and out of his arms through silver needles,
How do I know that this is safe,
No one knows if this is safe,
This is our only hope.


Tick..tock.....tick........tock.
White coat of the doctor moving too quickly towards us,
We run.
My heart thumping red and my stomach yellow bile and my eyes leaking blue.
Hospital room not room enough for all my emotions,
All of my tears,
All of my grief,
All his last breaths.
My son.
No longer my sunshine,
Just a pale winter afternoon,
No sun beneath cold sheets of snow.
My son.

Time moves too slow when everyone wears black,
Like molasses dripping from a jar into
Metallic air and earthy graves.
Like ash clouding out the sun.
My son.
No more my sun.

To the ******* at Mongolian Barbecue last night:
Just because you let your short shorts and flowered headband
Scream assumptions about your homosexuality doesn't mean
You can make those assumptions about others,
Forcing red-faced shame and trembling knees on a stranger,
Your hands clawing the pride from blue eyes like
Storm clouds making the world grey.
Butch and **** are never words that should come from your lips,
To someone you don't know
Just because you portray yourself as flamboyant
And she has her own style
They carry too many decades of hatred and fear to be
Tossed into casual conversation
Like land mines in her closet.
I don't care if you thought you were joking or being funny or cute
Her leather jacket and kickass combat boots don't
Paint some sort of rainbow bullseye
Between her shoulder blades, behind her heart.
People have enough to deal with in this world
Without having to defend themselves against your ignorance,
Without having to stop their tears from
Making small oceans on the streets of Ann Arbor.
Butch and **** should not be thrown from your lips
Carelessly,
Meaning none of the weight they carry.
You probably didn't see her cry
Because that's just the kind of person she is
But I did,
A thunderstorm of conflicting emotions and heart-wrenching, blood-curdling cries,
A deep-seated ache that won't be washed away
With my hugs or chocolate or
Assurances that you are, in fact,
A **** who doesn't deserve to know her.
11:30 pm she walked through the front door with red eyes and damp cheeks,
Her voice thick and choking on
Your arrogant, misplaced words,
And I might not always get along with my sister
But I felt my sternum crack right through the middle
When she spoke of you,
Ribcage shattering,
Rainbows pouring from my lungs
To try and knit her fractured, hopeful heart
Back together.
I am my sister's keeper.
To the ******* at Mongolian Barbecue,
I hope you learn to grow up and see how your
Words splinter souls like weeds splitting concrete
But until then
*******.

(This is a group poetry slam. The bolded lines are said in unison. I was in charge of the "yellow" sections)

A technicolor finish tainting paint on hate drenched signs
Alex: picketing picking away bits of lips, slicing silence into arms and hips
rainbows were not always so black and blue
Brigitte: yanked from the sky by a brood of vipers, dragged through mud and fire, pummeled until we see double.
Nicole: Poison placed on children’s tongues, “******” never tasted as sour as when describing
Audrey: translucent half circles shamed into not showing their true colors
Allie: We hide the private parts of ourselves, but what if our sheer existence clouds some sets of eyes with rage?
Even the speed of light can’t escape lids clenched tight like fists.  

Red
Brigitte: First crush is a hot sweat and perpetual throat lump
Molten shame gurgling beneath the tender flesh of your candy apple cheeks
Stains memory like spilled red wine
She was intoxicating
Red flecked rosacea readily recalls
Her name a cherry aftertaste, berry sweet yet crimson thirsty
red is the color of metamorphosis. of hormones misbehaving. of flushed ******* and a wish dancing on another girl’s lips.
Of bullseyes tattooed on wrists
Red is a warning of children’s taunts and old, wary eyes. It is the hue of thought blind hatred

Orange
Allie: The shade of autumn leaves slowly passing on
Grim reminders of slowly approaching school hallways that sneer taunts
Orange the color of names thrown into aching ears
******
Thrown into breaking hearts
Queer
Thrown into minds full of orange flickering bonfires of shame
Orange
The color of beautiful things slowly dying

Yellow
Alex: Like the caution signs on winding roads
Barely illuminated when the sky is too dark
Seen too late before a crash
Twisted metal ringing in our ears like
Twisted thoughts ringing in our ears like
When we recognize a crush that sets us apart
That tells us we're
Not normal, not right
Like fading bruises as we tell ourselves
That we're just yellow bellied cowards
As we tell ourselves
That on straight roads we wouldn't crash
And with straight hearts we wouldn't bleed

Green
Nicole: I feel sick
“A little green around the gills”
as I swim away is that why I’m drowning
in these murky waters of
“What if”s and “i don’t know”s
I have always been certain of the leafy canopies and garden inside of me
but this vine of uncertainty sprouted
and is choking me
I should not feel afraid for what I am because
this life is green and sprouting but there are
forest fires of hate spreading
We see the smoke signals all around us
our magnificent green fading to ashes

Blue and Purple
Audrey: Blue curtains block out the world that lurks just outside
Waiting to hurt me.
8 pm.
Purple dusk is gathering outside my walls
The same way the bruises on my heart threaten to eclipse the sun.
I'm scared.
I don't look at the veins  beneath my skin because they
Remind me too much of the purple-red blood
That spills too often from my arms,
Reminds me of my father's face
Purple with rage
When I told him
9 pm. Navy skies I will not see again
Purple pen writing apologies
Heart pumping blood too fast,
No time,
Can't breathe, face purple,
Can't breathe, face blue
Can't breathe.


They took away our rainbow. Let’s take it back.

Purple and Blue
Audrey: I love the way the sky turns lavender before the sun rises
I love the way your long hair and pale curves look
Against the blue sheets
I love not hiding who we are.
We should get Purple Hearts for all the times
The missiles of queer and butch have landed in
The midst of our embrace,
Launched by an unknown enemy before we were able
To twine our hands and hearts on small-town sidewalks
Laying under the lilac bushes,
Watching the day slip into purple dusk with firefly stars.
I love not hiding who we are.

Green
Nicole: once a cowering seed deep underground
Sprouting up through a crack in the slab of
concrete hate concrete rejection
because fresh life will destroy hate
even if it is slowly, one seed at a time
we are not weeds in your garden
green
a safe place the sun shining
fresh sprouting buds anticipating something beautiful
the prelude to a symphony of colors
green
sprouting from the earth
we do not need to prove that we are not unnatural
but grown from the same soil

Yellow
Alex: Somewhere in the middle of the rainbow like I'm
Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum
Associated with the sun and the stars but
Not with day and night
Because things are never quite as black and white as we make them out to be
Yellow, in the middle of pink and blue on the pansexual flag
Acknowledging that there are people out there
Who could love people like me
And yellow like dandelions
Changing daily into pieces drifting away
To end up regrown in dirt
Just like anything else

Orange
Allie: The shade of sunrise
A beautiful dawn of hope and opportunity
Peeking over the horizon
The passage of time and hopefully some ******* laws
Orange the warmth of a new day pouring some happiness into what once was a seemingly endless night
Orange the color of change

Red
Brigitte: sunshine ray burn cozy in your proud heart
blood rush, fire burst, lovesick intensity smoldering in your eyes
Red is a love fusion ignited inward and radiating out like a star
illuminating the night regardless of how dark the nothing is around it
Red is grown up, a rubicund shamelessness sewn with time into the marrow of your bones
Roll out the red carpet, paint roses on the town
Blood is not only death, it’s also life

Audrey: Acceptance!
Nicole: Life!
Alex: Hope!
Allie: Change!
Brigitte: Love!

**Pride comes in ALL colors

I remember when I was lost in depression and self-loathing,
how alone I felt.

Even when I was surrounded by people, who I loved and loved me, I felt disconnected and numb.

This poem is a small message to all of you who felt and feel this way that you are not alone.

No suggestions or advice.  Often the friends and strangers that helped me the most when I was really lost in myself were the ones who drew near and were just with me.

A silent loving presence means a lot when you feel numb to life.  A simple tender touch might not break through the walls of depression in the moment, but I remember those warm touches in hind sight.  

Loving presence were subtle lamp posts that guided me out of the darkness of depression, resentments, self-pity, and hate.

All I have are these words as totems of a loving presence given to me by others that reminded me that I am not alone.  A gentle touch, a silent smile, or just hearing the breath of a loved one sitting quietly next to you.

I love the way the sky turns lavender along the
Eastern edge of the world before the sun rises
I love the way your long hair and pale curves
Against the blue sheets
I love not hiding who we are.
We should get Purple Hearts for all the times
The missiles of "queer" and "butch" have landed in
The midst of our embrace,
Launched by an unknown enemy before we were able
To twine our hands and hearts on the small-town sidewalks of an August afternoon,
Before I could have you over for dinner, movies, bonfires, and not feel the blue, icy glare of my neighbor
Laying under the lilac bushes,
Watching the day slip into purple dusk with firefly stars.
I love not hiding who we are.