To the next me
I wish you freedom in your love
I wish you comfort in your courage
That your sanctuaries may be met with care
To the next me,
I hope you find your dreamland
Where your joy is not a quiet rebellion,
but that pain is met with purpose
you cradle one another
Not in weakness,
But in power
Here, the confines of self flood into the infinite
Vulnerability becomes the root
Resilience, the soil
Where the tendrils of your wholeness may bloom
Every act of care
is a rupture in the system.
Every act of love
an unyielding declaration:
we are still here.
If queerness is to disorient us from the now
How do we follow to discorrupt our being
Bound by what they use to define
Our bodies out of context
Why must they act as if this is the end
It is how it is
You lie
Lie to yourself and to your youngers
For every time we kiss, every time I hold her hand,
the future is one step closer
Carrying the world within us, so neither of us can be lost
To the next me, from the fractures of anger you will build
Not a fragile thing, fickle like the lies you’ve been given but a promise of stone
This sanctuary, in a hill side by the sun, words pushing like waves, crashing into you in all the right ways
Rising up your waves are strengthened by each hand on surface
Pushed by the gust of wind we all breathe
The storm blown away and there you will find our joy is not a quiet peace but a symphony of green and bird songs
Triumphant and loud in a way that can never be quiet again
This cradle for the next me