By. Lauren

I have this problem.
When I have to hold the hand of someone who does not accept me they feel dead.
It's as if there is no blood going to their head.
I don't know if it is because I am nervous or if it's because they know who I am.
Their hands feel numb.
Lifeless,
If you're not gay,
I can tell by your hands.
I don't know why I have this problem
I just know it's always true.
When I hold your hand
I can tell you are gay
without a doubt.
You have life to you.
Blood in your veins.
A shimmer in your eyes.
And a smile on your face.

By. Lauren

You fell in love with me so you kissed me.
You liked my smile so you dated me.
You enjoyed my voice so you talked to me.
You cherished my attention so you hung out with me.
You loved sleeping next to me so you stayed at my house.
You stopped loving me so I stopped breathing.
You hated me so you slapped me.
You broke up with me so I cried.
Now you come back to me and I just look at you.

By. Lauren

Poetry I miss you
Except
I no longer have the skills to write you.

By. Lauren

I tried not to love poetry for you.
But I couldn't.
It's just now I try to love poetry for me.
And I can't seem to do that either.

By. Lauren

The word sick is poison to my lips.
The word sick makes me want to cry.
The word sick makes my stomach churn.
157 million people in our world suffer from some form of chronic illness.
These people go their whole lives learning to spell diseases many doctors are unable to pronounce.
Hospital visit after hospital visit yet we refuse to claim ourselves sick.
The word sick gives me the sense of failure.
The sense of caving into my chronic illness.
The word sick makes me want to cry.
Because the word sick means I have given up all hope that resides in my mind.

By. Lauren

128 beats per minute.
128 times I'm sure I will die.
184,320 beats per day.
A rhythmic palpitation refusing to slow.
And people wonder why I can't keep a beat.
Every second I seem to speed.
128 beats per minute.
128 pumps of blood.
At this rate I am more blood than water.
Because my day is made up of 184,320 beats per minute my body is forced to hold.

Por. Lauren

El lenguaje es sólo una barrera que debemos desafiar.