There are things i ultimately want for you
for you to be at peace
for you to feel loved, always.
for you to be healthier
in order to live a long, promising life.
For you to finish pilot school
so you’re never left with regretful wonder.
for you to have unlimited Disney passes
to go whenever your heart needs some extra magic.
For you to have children
& be able to instill in them
everything I love most about you.
For you to have a home
tailored to you, crafted by you– because you’ll love it that much more if it is.
all of these things i wish for you
& i hope to be your partner,
through each & every milestone.
i don’t need a ring
or a marriage certificate
to be with you through all of these
magnificent little futures.
im afraid for our future
i stay up swiping through reposted articles
about unexplainable beached whales
plastic outnumbering fish in the sea
& have to wonder
do we really have a chance?
will we get the life
where we grow old
& have kids?
isn’t it a disservice, to want kids
only to leave them in the mess of our making?
will we have the years
to travel to the breathtaking sights?
& will they still be there for us,
when we seek them out?
its enough worry
to engulf me
much like the oceans will
unless i burn to a crisp first
theres this tiny dissonant thought
im assuming its the innate
primate in me
that encourages fight over flight
life over death.
it softly murmurs
in the spaces between
the cold hard beating,
& what if
despite all to come
you will have
a wonderful life?
he wants chickens.
he happily recites facts he’s read
about how self-sustainable they are
& shares his plans of a coop in the backyard
& a compost pile
that our kids will tend to.
he delicately asks
how i want the eventual chicken deaths
to be handled
because they dont live very long
& he embraces the extra-sensitive animal lover in me.
he makes plans
how ever small chickens seem
in the grand scheme of life.
he sees fresh farmed eggs
in our future
so despite any doubts i have
about our compatibility as housemates
they must be insignificant enough
for him to still see us caring for chickens.
i need to learn to leave the scales
the weighing of equal deeds & favors
i need to adapt to a world
where i cant feel guilty
everytime i ask you to attend a family function
like its one more tally against me
for being weak enough to want you there.
i need to accept my right to feel
like i need you
even if in my mind i havent done enough
to deserve it
we may trade in different currencies
but they’re exchanged for the same reason
i need to remember
that to turn our gestures
into leveraged goods
is to make it a transaction
& not an act of grace.
it amazes me
that in the age of the internet
where knowledge, and the ability to be informed
is at the tip of your fingers
you choose to live in a house
with the drapes of ignorance
pulled tight over the windows.
Because if you pulled back those curtains
you’d see the earth is not flat.
You choose to live in a place
circulating old air
& outdated information
to sustain you.
You rely on those walls,
to protect you from “those” people out there
but i wish for those walls,
to transform into mirrors
to reflect what devolved creatures
you’ve let yourself become
but you wouldn’t see.
you wouldn’t see, what we all see.
Because in order to see change,
to see fault,
you need a standard
something to compare yourself to.
But in your four-walled sanctuary,
there’s only the same
in a house with blacked-out windows
& severed ties to the real world
you’ve lost touch with reality.
So go on.
believe the earth is flat,
and that homosexuality is an infection,
to be transferred to your children.
for the sake of society,
remain in your house.
because we wouldn’t want your
to infect us.