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 Feb 2015 Amber Bowen
a
coming out
 Feb 2015 Amber Bowen
a
when i was 10,
my father said,
"i'll walk the aisle when you wed. "
when i was 12,
my father unfurled,
"you're dead to me if you like girls."
when i was 14,
my father cried,
"slit those wrists, say goodbye."
when i was 15,
my father did grieve,
"pick up your bags, i need you to leave."
now at 16,
my father is silent.
my home is too far,
my wrists are still violent.
my family is none,
my bones have grown weary.
life's closing my door;
deaths locking the windows,
im trapped in a shell
of homosexual innuendos.
(if you struggle with sexuality or abuse due to, call this hotline 1-800-850-8078)
 Feb 2015 Amber Bowen
Amanda
I can finally look at myself
in the mirror without your figure
standing behind me observing
my every detail and every flaw.

I'm thankful to say I have
moved on from you entirely
and that your presence no longer
intimidates my inner being.
Go ahead
Ignore me
See how much
I really don't care
I don't care as much as
Ariel doesn't care about the land
I don't care as much as
Momma bear doesn't care for he Cubs
I don't care as much as
Lincoln didn't care about slavery
But with these examples
I guess you could say
I DO care
I care a lot more
Than you could ever comprehend
 Feb 2015 Amber Bowen
David
This morning was one of firsts
and one of fists.
My lashes tied together
untwined the way they always do.

slowly

For the first time in six years
I had forgotten the date.
I pushed my feet through the maze of layers
as if I had someone to wake up next to
My optimistic attitude wished they were not there
because they were running a little late.

I threw on an outfit...if you can call it that
and went to the store
The violent red that attacked me at the front
brought me the realization that it was in fact
the same day
just a year ago
that I would have prepared for
weeks ahead instead
I made myself a meal and poured a glass of wine
as the white outside made
all of humanity disappear.
...and it was beautiful
I bought myself flowers, and lit candles
I snuggled and rubbed my feet together under a red blanket
and listened to songs about loving yourself.
I feel a little bad
I feel a little good
but most of all
I feel
I know
that before loving all of those lovers all those loves ago
I must be loving to the mornings
when there are just my feet in the bed.

This morning was one of firsts
and one of fists.
My lashes tied together
untwined the way they always do.
...and for that I am grateful.
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