my mother and grandmother wait downstairs,
chatting, rambling aimlessly over scalding coffees.
piping hot, the only way they take it.
i want to tell them that i am in love with a girl names adelaide.
the quiet, lonely girl who photographs pink sunrises,
solid red hardback books on stainless white tables,
and vibrant yellow shoes in a green field of daisies
to show contrast.
adelaide has taken photos of me as well.
laying on my stomach,
my bare back warding off the evil creatures of earth.
a single photo stands out to me.
the one of our two soft lips almost touching.
my grandmother glares at me
and my mother yanks her warm hand
away from my cold and bony hand,
leaving it to rest beside the now lukewarm coffee.
i can't deny my affection for adelaide,
but i also can't ignore my affliction with acceptance,
and a life washed clean of judgement.
i crave both kinds of love.
YOU ARE READING
up close & personal
Poetry- a compilation of slam poetry/ narrative poetry about the labels we put on ourselves and others, internal contracts, hardships, and difficulties. however, we will overcome and defeat because everyone that said we couldn't, were wrong. we just have...
