gwyns-writing

[gwyns-writing]

sigh of a dyke

356 queer people*

320 beautiful trans people**

365 days***

*who suffered a hate crime in 2023.

**murdered in 2023.

***in 2023.

1 queer child*

468 bills**

52 days***

*murdered in 2024.

**that killed them, just from 2024.

***in 2024, only.

sigh. it's heavy. but what can I do?*

*cry, pray, search, hope, abandon religion, try again, fail, fight, scream, grieve your compassion, damn the murderers, damn your father and damn your parents, damn your peers, damn the boys you met in high school, damn your middle school religion teachers, damn the people that killed them, all of the people that killed them, all of the politicians who started this, and who continue it, and all of the people who believe in an evil god's word and hold hate in their hearts and laugh at a person's queerness and say that the fight is won. they are all responsible. they killed this child. they all did. pray that hell is hot for them, and pray that there is a heaven just for queer people, and pray that there is a heaven for you, too, you despicable, evil, sick, disgusting fucking dyke.

[gwyns-writing]

cry now so that when you are a cloud, the rain you hold won’t be plentiful, and people below will enjoy warm spring showers, but never storms.

cry now so that when you are the sea, you will know how to keep the creatures within you safe, and hold them the same way you were held when your heart was broken.

let your tears of sadness shed today, so that your tears of joy may water the flowers and join the ocean in one million years. your children’s children’s children will bless you for it.

[gwyns-writing]

i could drink this wine for ages, the privilege to be immovable between this aperture of grace until the final judgment may take each soul from the earth, and be content enough to sustain my soul for untold lifetimes. but i am mortal, so i shall drink my wine now, and continue to crave the chimera that your wine may sustain me within my body of flesh, enough so that i may live only on your wine alone.

[gwyns-writing]

miracle of life

miracle of life

even in the dark i am still alive

even now, disengaged, i am still alive

even asleep, i am still alive

and i love

miracle of life

miracle of love

even when i cry i love

even when i scream i love

even when i frown i love

and i am

miracle of love

miracle of kindness

i am kind

i am love

i am alive

miracle of life

i am a miracle

i love this miracle of life

my miracle of life

miracle of love

miracle of kindness

miracle of miracles!

miracle of life

[gwyns-writing]

A third grade portrait where I chose the color of my hair

it wasn't brown, it wasn't blonde, it was gold

back when I loved my dad the way that I did before

and even then something inside said that I wasn't pretty

even then

I’d draw girls with blonde hair that was blonder than mine and I'd know

something about me was wrong

but in the third grade I learned that I like to sing

I’d get up on stage and I'd make something up

and people I knew would smile, but not other kids

somewhere along the way

I'd stop playing with cheetahs and horses and dogs

and would start playing alone

even then a voice in my head said that I wasn't good enough

And even then

i’d draw frowny faces on my math homework and I'd know

Those faces were something I needed a grown-up to see

pink glasses and glitter and pearls

and girls who were mean and my sheets that were green and the walls filled with butterflies

and toys that were buried outside in the grass

enjoying a mass

speaking in class and learning to say my Rs

everything innocent

everything sweet

was clouded the more I grew up

and I don't remember her like I did before

But i see her in every choice that i make

And i look for her in every dark day

And i hope that she knows, some day, even now

she will be okay

[gwyns-writing]

this should be peaceful

but when i am with them i am closeted

i am quiet

i am silenced

i am hidden

my quirks are suppressed

my personality is censored

my happiness is quickly extinguished

and i love them

and they love me

but not really

they don’t even know me

[gwyns-writing]

when lucia revealed herself stained with the blood of arturo

my soul

sitting on the red cushion before her

only could deny her sin.

perhaps a tie of womanhood is stronger than one of blood

[gwyns-writing]

what i wait for what i work for what i wish for and wake for is for more frozen seconds to spend with you and the chance that my eternal rest may be in your shelter

[gwyns-writing]

Inside of a Petco sat 32 unique betta fish.

Inside of a pond just 5 miles away swam over 200 wild fish, a plethora of unique plant species, a fresh batch of 29 tadpole eggs, and 31 tadpoles that had just hatched.

Inside of an office sat one person without a clue about fish, but a passionate rage toward Petco and their cruel practices.

Inside of the Petco, about 3 minutes later, sat 20 new betta fish that had just been delivered.

Inside of the pond, 30 seconds later, swam over 200 wild fish, a plethora of unique plant species, a fresh batch of 28 tadpole eggs, 31 tadpoles, and one that had just hatched prematurely, but perhaps if fate were to be in its favor, could live for a few more days.

Inside of a tall, beige minivan, 5 minutes later, sat the passionate man, on his way to Petco.

Inside of the Petco, about 10 minutes later, stood the man, with 52 unique betta fish in his shopping cart.

Inside of the pond, 12 minutes later, swam over 200 wild fish, a plethora of unique plant species, a fresh batch of 28 tadpole eggs, 31 tadpoles, one that had just hatched prematurely, but perhaps if fate were to be in its favor, could live for a few more days, and 52 unique betta fish.

Inside of his home, 6 hours later, the man slept easy, happy with himself for saving the fish.

Inside of the pond, at the same time, swam 127 wild fish, a few unique plant species, a fresh batch of 12 tadpole eggs, 8 tadpoles, and 48 unique betta fish.

Inside of the pond, a few days later, was almost nothing.

[gwyns-writing]

i have never been so concious

of my face before i loved you

of my skin before i loved you

i touch my face

with my hand

as i sit up front

alone in my thought of you

my fingers on my skin

remind me now of yours

i never before noticed my fingers

only my rough face

and now my soft cheek

as i am lost in my thought of you

my nose begins to bleed

and drips onto my fingers

i look at the crimson under my nails

i am alive

and because i am alive i have known the feeling of your soft fingers and my soft cheek

[gwyns-writing]

a belated sonnet for the person who is keeping me sane

With you I feel like spring shall never die,

Your hair a curling garden made of brown,

Your skin my fav'rite color of the sky:

the painted clouds as the night sun goes down.

Like budding earth, the glisten in your eye

invites me to your gaze in which I drown,

And yet somehow I breathe more easily

in presence of your caring hands on mine.

For here I laze and smile so leisurely.

My fear is calmed; I no more weep nor whine.

If I not restlessly remain at home,

I long for ev'ry second here with you.

For ev'ry lonesome distance that I roam,

through all facades, I know that you are true.

[gwyns-writing]

there may be pain we two may bare;

it’s only right that we do share.

though strife of life we two embrace,

our hands do touch its pale, cold face.

the answers we have come to know

leave us still with longing so.

o, wonders ne’er release my brain

as we lay behind the rain.

so i look into the air

asking if still you will care.

will you love when i’m away?

through life’s trials, will this stay?

only time will come to know

the longing that i carry so.

still, wondrous things i see.

in life, i feel, i’m truly free.

something new we two create

lifts me now from life’s grim fate.

now the world i look upon.

all mortality is gone.

finally, i am at rest

as stillness settles at its best.

[gwyns-writing]

this account is so cringe and i love it it is my silly little diary

[gwyns-writing]

i know we said talking about the future wasnt the best idea

but i also know we both cant help it

because thats when i know that we know how much we love each other

and i know that makes me smile :)

[gwyns-writing]

the toxin in some spit that flies off of a sharp tongue drives me to an enragement near homicidal, a despair near depression, and a hopelessness near the inclination to resign.

why can't people learn to be kind.

why can't people learn to be kind.

why can't people learn to be kind.

[gwyns-writing]

i am so close to you

we are practically intertwined as fibers in a thread

and yet, please, i want to be closer

forevermore and ever, i want to be closer.

[gwyns-writing]

what if i died?

i think something is wrong