Fall, how normal it feels to wear the changing leaves. The embrace of change, the new beginning, and the growing.
He fits for a moment. But, a shift will occur and he'll become aware of every part of himself.
Winter, an aching cold. The ice becomes home. A reality check. What does he deserve?
Conditional love feels so good for a while. Like fire on a cold night. Violent shivers settle for a moment. He always forgets they will return. Being chased away doesn't mean they won't grow braver.
The agonizing cold wrapping tighter around him.
The fire will eventually do nothing to protect him.
Birds songs echo, he drifts away.
Maybe this is home.
Maybe this is enough.
Good enough.
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Queer Church
PoetryGrowing up queer in a religious environment and other things from a queer kid.
