If you told me a year ago
that I’d be standing here now
I would tell you
that you’re crazy
Never in my life
would I expect such a shock
These things only happen on TV
or in the movies
Today I sit here
and I am proven wrong
I wish I could say I’m honored
but we all know I never wanted to be here
The Midwest Region.
Where my crimson roots took shape.
Born into legacy the same soil, I became.
A solo violet broke ground,
nearest my mother’s field—
just a little further down.
This fertile earth birthed leadership and grace.
Small, but MIGHTY,
setting the pACE.
Pearls of wisdom,
intelligence the torch.
100 years of service.
Sisterhood, scholarship, and social action.
A multitude of deeds brought forth.
It’s what we do.
Bond so strong—
EVERLASTING.
Eight states and one province wide.
To be real.
Forever home.
All of my love.
The seventeen years
between love and hate left us
sterile and swollen.
You filled me with hope,
so I ignored red flags.
That’s how I cope
with the itch to pack my bags.
Loved you so deeply;
I knew you were an ocean
but forgot shores drop off steeply.
I drowned in devotion.
I was naive to not realize
you knew how to swim
when you watched waves brutalize,
tear me limb from limb.
Said you didn’t know
how to tread water.
You didn’t mean harm, though;
I guess it was manslaughter.
Feed people who are hungry, but only the white kind of people.
Give drink to those who are thirsty, if they have three professional references.
Clothe people who need clothes, by donating clothes to stores that sell clothes to people who have money to buy clothes with.
Visit prisoners, unless, you know, they did something like really bad.
Visit people who are sick, and make sure to go live on Insta when you do.
Bury people who have died, but expect people to mourn on the clock.
Whatever you do, for God’s sake, save your receipts for tax time,
you’ll thank me later.
Today, I am the flawlessly
intact plump green grape
that slipped from a pair of fingers
and rolled to a stop against a leg
on the turf.
Once you were my best friend
A promise it would never end
You said we were magnets
Could not resist the pull
Convinced me that we were mean to be
I wanted to believe
I needed to see
Unfortunately, life had a different plan
Twist and turns
Life had something else in mind
Time was not on my side
It all came crashing down
Complements so easily given
Traded for words of shame
Coming from a place of guilt
Broken promises
Left me with no other choice
Thrown away life trash
Now rebuilding beauty from ash
Understanding the challenge of the dash
everyone has a plan
until they get punched
in the face
all hail the new king
long live the
new king
I love seeing the before and after photos
in trans groups online.
Inspiring messages say,
“It’s never too late.”
People transitioning at 50, 60, and 70.
They are the happiest they have ever been.
I bask in their joy.
