Song of a sock

I wait for you in the dark.

You, who took me into your home,

brought me somewhere safe and surrounded me with friends.

I lay still until you need me.

My twin and I, ready to serve,

we will be your foundation, we’re here to be used.

I have only one wish, just

please use me ’till my body tears.

Let me wrap snugly against you on cold nights,

I live only for the moment you pluck my from my room

with your kind hands.

Here at your feet I will remain,

and nowhere else.

My life is humble, but full of quiet joy.

Sonnet 0

In fair Zone 0 we begin our tale

With Purifier and his Puppeteer

Encouraged by a cat who looked quite frail

The Purifier said, “The end is near.”

He journeyed far and wide to all the Zones

A brave, redeeming knight with bat in hand

He slayed the demons, scattering their bones

The pale, masked vendor said “It’s all as planned.”

The warrior’s quest soon came to an end

Before the Queen he came after a time

His head did bow, and his proud knee did bend

The Purifier answered for his crimes

He who conquers self doth conquer twice

Slaughter recklessly, dear knight, and pay the price

my relationship with spiders

tenuous

threads hanging in air

sinuous

speech strung up to share

detailing unexpressed cares

laying my heart open, bare

shimmering

my narrative flow

filaments

got something to show

years keeping silent, alone

rhythm rests deep in my bones

delicate

tread carefully here

dangerous

draw listeners near

tell me your hopes and your fears

darling I’ll open your ears

twinkling

weave webs out of words

fabulous

I’ll spin you a dirge

sing for the people we were

songs for the whole universe

beautiful

I am not the pimples on my face

softness built up ’round my thighs and waist

I am not my un-groomed, un-plucked brows

no foundation, no concealing powder

I am not my fashion sense-less clothes

clashing colors, blue jeans way too old

I am not my hours spent with friends

evenings spent drunk-dancing, without end

I am not my anger or my hate

I am not walking into class late

I am not my ratty, torn-up sneakers

I am not my car’s old blown-out speakers

What I am is what I need to be

Sad sometimes, but oftentimes at peace

Awkward, clumsy, that’s alright with me

Mirrors show me what I need to see

Happy Autumn Equinox!

This is what I’m listening to today as I sip my cider and snack on apples and nuts.

Happy and blessed Mabon to all.

#NowPlaying on @8tracks: “Mabon” http://8tracks.com/margaritanoir/mabon – Sent from the #8tracks #Android #musicapp

NYC

“dreams come true here”

in that moment, I believed it

streets lit with hope

walls adorned with the colors of ambition

it seemed the strange and beautiful was to be found on every corner

beneath illuminated bids for adoration

a tiny, dusty curio shop

within its windows

the delicate skeleton of a bat

cast in bronze

in all the Empire,

nothing could have been more beautiful

machinekin

Roaming the campus

I put myself beside the rover on Mars

scanning, scanning for detail

opening beseeching palms for inspiration

circuits spark

in protest

and song lyrics play unbidden in my brain

within a moment

gears stop, wheels halt

the trees are beautiful

end transmission, photoreceptors zoom in

on sunlight through triumphant viridian

genderfuck

part 1

Today

I’m adorably femme

with cute, perky tits and a luscious bottom

Pastel pink heels, gloss for my lips

a palisade of lace panties for my dick

Yesterday

I was dashing and bold

stubble for my face and broad shoulders

full brows, thick hands

and a pussy wrapped in leather pants

Tomorrow

I’ll be above this gender shit

A necktie to go with my cute nerd outfit

hair shaved in a mohawk, an oversized sweater

big enough to be a minidress

part 2

the two lumps on my chest remind me every day that i’m mixed-up, confusing and a nuisance, that i’m not “okay”

keep ’em covered, and smother my identity in this body i never asked for but that was assigned to me

i lift weights and run races because i want to be strong, but it’s this feminine softness that i’m running away from but before you smile, nod, and give me the title of “man”, shut the fuck up and listen, i don’t accept that brand

of category-based thinking, and my spirit is sinking. your mislabeling’s enabling your world to keep shrinking and at home i stare in the mirror, naked and swear that what i see is not never was and never will be me

walk

I took a walk alone in the cold

Night Vale in my head and vaporous

Smoke on my lips. I took a walk, trailing

My scarf and foggy rings as I went.

I took a walk, signals coming in at my side and

Ducking into stairwells meeting uncharacteristic

Spiders.

I took a walk

And the empty, cracking tennis court

reminded me of who I was.

tired

​i’ll answer your question with a question

my opening statement is thus

why do we insist on hurting ourselves

and do things that we know will harm us

we drink and we smoke and we fight and we fuck

we prick and we scratch

and some of us cut

activities of still-greater degrees of gross indecency but you turn your inquiring minds and ask me to speak

and i can’t

not for everyone

but on my end i’ve got vocal cords in fine working order

and i know why i keep on denying myself sleep

and indulge in this compulsion to hasten my mortal defeat

because i’m tired

and i don’t know what’s real

the glossy posters in the old school house entreated me to use

the scientific theory

so i test

how much can i take

how much can i stand

how long before i can’t

stand

i measure

and prod

can’t remember

sometimes, if all of it’s real or just some parts