red lipstick and steaming guns strapped to backs as carelessly as if they were born not to kill; eagles and make america great again with betty blondes and brown haired rubies hold up flags that only exclude everyone who doesn't have skin fairer than moonlight. how this came to form comes to our minds as we sit in underground gay clubs and wonder whether we will ever be accepted. obsidian skin tones are warmer than love's hands and softer than her breath. strange how they are mistaken as danger and strife for doing things anyone else could have done.
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when you have no idea how to end a story so you just extend it another thousand words
YOU ARE READING
paraphernalia
Poetrypretentious poetry. FOREWARNING: this was written over three years. my style changes dramatically, as does everything else. quality of pieces varies.
