You Deserve To Exist

I know what it’s like to be,

Queer & Afraid.

They say you are strong,


But right now, you are not.

It’s okay to take shelter

In the haven of your own mind.

It’s true what they say about the closet.

Sometimes it’s easier to hide in the dark.


But the sun will rise,

The stars will shine.

Everyone who has feared,

Just as you have,

Has looked at the same sky.

Your eyes illuminate with wonder

Everytime you look up.

The earth will continue to move

And so will you.


I am your refuge.

I am here:

To listen to your words

To feel your pain

To love you.


Life is a kaleidoscope of memories.

Fragments of good and bad

Spun into one another,

Colliding and morphing with every twist and turn.

It looks like broken glass

Illuminated by colors and shapes

Swirling into one another.

And it’s beautiful.


Don’t forgot:

The only acceptance you truly need is your own.

A heart full of love shines brighter

Than a heart full of hate.

Find solace in yourself.

Be kind to your body.

Though it may be threaded

With fear.


Remember to feel.

You deserve what is good.

You cannot see beauty without ugly.

You cannot see strength without fear.

Life is bountiful of hope

No matter how treacherous they journey may be.


You are a living being. You deserve to exist.

Villanelle Poem: Wonder / Desire

Wonder / Desire

A villanelle, by Colleen E. Smith


Wonder; cause of astonishment,

Life’s daily invite.

Bewildered curiosity with no consent.


Frequent occurrences circumvent,

Daring to take your sight

Of wonder, causing astonishment.


A sun that rises and descends,

Blooming dawn and twilight,

Bewilders curiosity, with no consent.


A woman’s love, relentlessly persistent,

Patient, kind, and erudite.

Wonder; cause of astonishment.


A desire thought to be senescent,

Proven untrue beneath moonlight,

Bewildered curiosity, with no consent.


Her, walking away… My self-abasement,

Unbeknownst it would be our only night.

Wonder; cause of astonishment…

Crippling bewilderment with no consent.

Borderlands /// A Poem in Three Parts

Trigger Warning: this post contains the use of slurs.


I. Reconciliation

I exist
at the border of two lies,
constructed only to oppose
one another.
They pull and tug at my flesh,
construct the parts of me
that make me whole,
but tear me down again.

We are the trannies,
the faggots,
the dykes,
the cunts,
the queers.
We are the ones
who so acutely
understand this lie.
Because we are the ones
who so acutely
are scarred
again & again
by its existence.

They mark us male,
they give us blue beanies
& tell us not to cry,
they tell us to live in the world
as us
is to assert,
to dominate,
through every example,
Violence leads our lives

Or they mark us female,
guided into submission
insecurity tightened into our blood
every man painted a threat
to our existence,
But further, as
the final goal,
the one that will justify our bodies,
Violence leads our lives, too.

how to pretend to be straight for her, vol. 1

  1. Ask to borrow her lipstick. Imagine her lips beneath yours, all pink and bright sparks against your skin, willing and soft. Thank her. Know you will only ever get her mouth by stealing it quietly.
  2. When she sleeps over and borrows your shirt to sleep in, don’t think too hard about it. Don’t think about how she looks better in it than you do. Don’t think about how that turns you on instead of makes you jealous. Don’t think. You’re just a teenager. This is normal. This should feel normal. It won’t feel normal.
  3. She’ll leave her shirt from the day before crumpled in a heap next to your bed accidentally. You notice it when she’s brushing her teeth in the morning. Don’t tell her it’s there. When you hug her goodbye, think about her shirt next to your bed, hidden away like a secret you didn’t mean to make. Let go of her sparrow-wing shoulders quicker than you think is necessary. Take her false smile as penance.
  4. Use it as a pillowcase. Hurt yourself by breathing. Let your lungs coat with her flower-scented dryer sheets and hope. Breathe out. Throw the pillow across the room. Scream the hope out.
  5. When you hug her, hold your breath. Don’t bury your head in her hair. It will smell like the pillow you slept on for two weeks until it smelled more like you than her. Let go first. Breathe out. Smile.
  6. Go to a bar and smirk at the first guy who looks at your legs. Make out with him in the bathroom because his hips are thin and fit in your palms like you think hers would. You’ll have to crane your neck too much for it to feel right, but it will be good enough for now.
  7. Write I’m going to ruin you on every scrap of paper you can find. Throw them all away.
  8. She’ll tell you a story about how she kissed a girl when she was drunk. She’ll laugh the whole time, eyes bright. She describes it like kissing her own palm. Laugh and wish you could kiss her palm, too.
  9. Go to a bar and smirk at the first girl who looks at your legs. Make out with her in the bathroom because you want to get even, you want to make sure that you’re going to destroy this in the worst way possible. Hate yourself for loving it. Pull away and pretend like you’re not crying as you run to your car. Drive home faster than you should and hope you crash along the way. You won’t. Instead, you’ll fall asleep listening to the voicemail she left you three weeks ago about how her dog learned a new trick. Tears will fall in time with her laugh. Find new ways to fall in love with the way her mouth holds joy.
  10. The next time you see her, don’t tell her about the girl in the bathroom. Realize that her eyes are your least favorite color. Let that be enough. Find new ways to fall out of love with the way her eyes hold joy.

Love to Mind

*To the lovers that never were because our bodies told them to stay away…*

Ohhhh, Baby! Let me make Love to your mind!

Mindful thoughts swaying in the air with nowhere to go but in the warmth of my bosom
If only we knew how to make love blossom
into our smiles, our thoughts, and words.

Because loving with our bodies seems to be the only language we know
And being physical is nice and all but it’s like that’s the only way we know how to express ourselves
And I want to change the language of intimacy
Because in the depths of my being I know Love is forever and baby I know my body will not be here forever

My soul wants to caress the inner thigh of your mind
Kiss the lips of your sweet soul
Touch the chest of your thoughts and tell you,
Honey, let’s make love
Not with our bodies but with our souls
Pressing against one another, sweating because our passion is too hot and our faces are too warm
smiling, exchanging those words that we never thought we would
Changing our moans for laughter
Looking into the eyes of the other and saying
Oh, baby…
Let me make Love to your soul!

I see you and you see me, and for the first time in My life I know that if we never touch again we would still love
Still look at the other and agree we were one

One soul

Two minds

Bound in each other’s arms forever and always
Acting like always is forever and my forever is always.

The first time I saw your inner self I began to cry
Because our souls were naked and we saw how raw fully beautiful it was to leave the imprints of each other’s being on our hearts

When our final days come and I see your soul for the last time I will weep.
Because I know I will be leaving behind a mine of gold where I once was covered in dirt by the smog of your powerful beauty
And I think it’s okay to call you beautiful because to me that’s all I see
Even when the scars on your body may say otherwise
And the harshness of your skin may tell people to stay away

…This is all I soulfully see


I am with you and you are with me in bed together naked in our mind’s eye telling our life’s secrets
As if making love was easy and without complication
But let me tell you,
It’s complicated and it is not easy

My love for you is messy and harsh
Judging what my soul shares with yours because my body has been struck by others
By you
Beaten Down, Beaten Down

that my Self-finds it hard to say ‘yes’ to the making of Our love 

To make love to your soul is a task
One that needs work and practice
Your soul against mine is all I ask for
But in moments where I can actually see you for you, I wonder if you were ever really naked to begin with…

…I cry when I see your inner being inside mine

Love to Mind

I’m forever asking you to make love to my soul
Forever, as in My Always.


Man, I’ll tell you…

Gay people get called “Faggot, Battymon, Fish /Blade/ Bulldozer and Dike .

Every- fucking- day!

They say: walk like a man /talk like a man/act like a man/put some base in yo voice!

Well damn! I got to do all that?

So you motherfuckers can walk around feeling like you all lat!?

 Y’all shame us for walking in our truth! And what do we get?

Swagga Jackd by straight boys wearing skinny jeans and rompers.

Ain’t that a bitch!
You see we “fags” until yo ass needs the updated fabs and thats when respect seems to come relevant.  But the fact that y’all some ignorant mother fuckers is irrelevant- it’s clear that most of y’all dumb asses don’t even know that gays are the CEOs to the companies of the latest trends y’all following.

Why is it that “gays” are the ones crazy or confused When it ain’t us with the homophobic issues.
I mean no disrespect or harm.

But um,

I do marvel at how  when the Gay thing comes along people who break commandments like bread become so PRO religious~and biblical with everything being said!

It intrigues me that lying, cheating, stealing, murdering, dead beats is put beneath this sin Reduced to a simpler sentence, misdemeanors by comparison.

How you gonna tell me that it’s wrong to be gay.

When you sitting at home getting drunk off yo ass every day.

‘Fucking lying/robbing and stealing just to get it, telling me I ain’t shit and its best to mind my business..

All jokes aside…

I’m really being sincere when I say I’d love to hear with it really is that you fear?

I’m Not trying to push the gay agendas

I’m just tryna  to mend the

Mind of those whos still living in the darkness living their life in closets

Boxes that were made for clothes

But believe me be this poem will never get old

The secret livers will continue to scold those who are bold


Don’t ever change who you are for what someone is not

Or will except

Or better yet

Never live in a way that you’ll ever regret

You are no ones secret!

 Believe this!

 And surpass  the myth that gay love doesn’t really exist…